Sally's Page

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I meant to tell you: I finally retired the "humane"

trap I spent all winter emptying into

the park.It was just too cruel. I couldn't watch another little furball roll out the trap door and race off to worse terror (death by

, snow, starvation) than the snap traps I could have just broken their

necks with. Or else cross back over the street and into my apartment again.

I know it's my civic duty to help fight the rodent menace in our city, but I'm .

The other day I stepped on a moving . It seemed to hang there so long between the sidewalk and the sole of my boot, hard bones and yet soft and fat and slow--confident. Later I had a dream about killing a small hairy thing (a ?), really smashing its little face in.

I could use some help from the rest of the animal kingdom. But my Bird is no.

Sometimes there are joyous squeals from the kitchen, and you can hear thefamilies playing jungle gym in my toaster or under the sink. looks at me, does the cute RCA

head tilt, and puts her chin on the bed again.

Recently I bought ($16.98), a small whitebox that emits an "intensely powerful high

frequency ultrasonic sound" that only rodents can hear. You plug it into an outlet and shazzam.

Unfortunately, it's only about as effective as you were. Remember the way you would punch the

around carefully to make the fun last? And leave their bloody little limbs behind on the

bedroom floor? There are fewer in my kitchen since the PestChaser, but the ultrasonic

sound seems to have driven the stragglers mad. I might have to go in there with a .

Miss ya!

Love, Sal

R.I.P. Primavera Chew NYC June 1981-SF March 1996