Une taupe géante

Moles have become the bane of my existence here in rural France. When we first moved here there were no moles in our yard. But after a couple of years they moved in. They especially like the area around the vegetable garden since it's watered during dry weather. The watering attracts the things moles like to eat: grubs and worms.

A sculpture of a giant mole emerging from the garden at the Hôtel de Sully in Paris.

Not satisfied with the meals I'm unintentionally preparing for them, the moles have branched out into other areas of the yard. They don't do any real damage since they don't eat plants, but they raise hills of dirt all over the yard. Every time I want to cut the grass, I have to go out and remove the mole hills with my shovel and wheelbarrow. I use the dirt I collect for the garden or other areas of the property where we need a little clean fill.

A bad photo of a dead mole, Bertie's latest capture. It was about 6" long, nose to tail.

The moles aerate the ground, and that's good. But moving mole hills every couple of weeks really gets old. My lawn, such as it is, is pock-marked with round bare spots where the hills stood. And in the sections of the yard where the moles are particularly active, their tunnels make the ground very spongy.

I have learned to live with the moles. But now we have Bertie. I'm hoping he takes a liking to moles. He's brought us two so far. The first was still alive and I had to kill it so it would not escape back into the yard. The second, brought to us just this week, was dead. But Bert didn't eat it; he just left it for me. I really praised him for getting a mole and encouraged him to get more.

I can only hope he understands.