A Bridge Too Far .....

Just mouching about outside this evening when the phone rang. Bloody typical, isn't it? Things always go off when ye have a bucket in each hand and the Dogs are racing about, waiting for ye to take ye eye off them for that moment of distraction, so they can rush off to where ever they've had in mind for days now. At some point during the conversation, le Ding dashed. Little bugger! Get himself shot. I tell him so but, he won't listen .....

Anyway, it's this guy asking if I'm the Pest Control and going on about how he appears to have a problem and is looking for what to do about it. Never my favourite type of calls then. I like " I've got this fucking great plague of rats here! FFS! How soon can ye get here? I'll pay any Call Out Fee as soon as ye arrive! Please; Help! ".

I like those calls. Because it means the person recognises they have a problem. That it isn't about to just go away. And that they need Professional help. Not just 'That bloke down the road who says .....' Also means they don't take a Professional Pest Controller for any more of an idiot than they would a Mechanic or an Electrician. There's three job descriptions. Can You spot the fuckin' Charity amongst them? Many seem to think they can.

So, this guy's a brit, by the slightly posh accent and another clue or two. Obviously has this inherited cottage that he rents out for the winter, then takes a holiday in himself. Only, he's got guests who aren't paying any rent and are causing a pest of themselves. To the degree that they've gnawed through his water pipes and almost flooded the place!

I say 'almost', because he was lucky. The last person out turned off the water at the stop cock, see? So when el Tootho turned up and set to work, it only produced a limited pool of water, in the roof space. This alerting my caller to something amiss. He sent " Frank " up there and Frank reported the bitten through copper piping. Enter the Pest Controller.

Now, I'll always do what ever I can to advise a caller, to a sensible extent. But, I'm afraid, this guy's still out on his own now. He's got a Gray Squirrel, see? I figured that out after a brief interrogation. I was thinking how he's repeated to me where my web site says I'm based. Trying to remember where he'd said he was. And hoping for a nice little job.

How cool to take out take out one of the first Gray Squirrels to have crossed the Shannon and now be in Co. Leitrim. He Was in Leitrim, yeah? " And, where did ye say ye were ....? ..... North East of Sligo?!? " Forget it!

That's an Hour away from me. It'd cost me £100, round trip. (I work Local. People come and get me. I get a taxi. Or I just drop by in passing. I Do Not spend two fucking hours plus a day, just to set and check traps for squirrels in roof spaces!)

I'm sorry. I feel bad for the poor guy. He genuinely has a serious problem there and it won't go away or just get any better. If that bastard starts on his wiring, up there ....? But, what can I do?

Ironically, as I don't know of any other, trustworthy, 'One Man Band' operators out his way, he'll probably end up looking in the phone book next. And calling one of the Big firms. And that ~ double irony ~ will likely end up costing him even more than paying me for a couple of taxi rides would. And I couldn't vouch for the level of service he might expect either.

But, north of Sligo?! Just a bridge too far.