I know what you're thinking. 

But stand down, Avagadro.  This has nothing to do with you.  And I'm not referring to a certain type of skin condition.  And no, Special Agent Gibbs is not involved, either.

I'm talking about the critter.  The animal.   Class: Mammalia.   Order: Soricomorpha.   Family: Talpidae.

Or in our case, the Star-Nosed Mole.

 (cue screams) 

 There is no mole.  Only Zuul.

Well, actually, I'm not certain if that is the actual creature currently digging huge tunnels in our backyard.  I found a picture of another mole, one a bit more innocuous, even though it still looks scary.  Reminds me of some sort of pissed off mutant beaver with backwards bear claws for feet.

Holey Moley!

Whichever it is, there is some variety of mole which is hell bent on reducing our backyard to a subterranean version of the Pentagon, complete with working nuclear reactor and Hitler's pencil box.  And maybe even the Holy Grail.  I'm not certain, I've never met a mole in person before.

Here is our yard.  Notice the explosive piles of fresh dirt.  See the yellowed grass in spiderweb fashion.

It began along the back fence.  As I made a pass with the mower, my right foot disappeared into a hole.  Then I noticed more tunneled areas.  Many more.  Crud.  Off to the hardware store to pick up some mole pellets. 

It wasn't as if I wanted to murder the little things, and I did check out other methods, but most of them were preventative.  In other words, once you had moles, you were screwed.  So I seeded the tunnels per directions.  Done.  I hoped.

But several days later we were outside grilling burgers, the kids were enjoying the swingset, and we realized that the mole and his growing entourage were continuing their evil work.  There were multiple new tunnels and several piles of freshly dug dirt all around the swingset.  If those little bastards continued circling the structure with their tunnels the entire thing was going to sink into the earth.

I saw that movie.

So I went back to the store, this time for some of those fake poison earthworms.  As I pushed those tempting morsels of death every five feet or so throughout the tunnel system I felt kind of sorry for the moles.  But I was more sorry for us, since the damn things run about $2 each.

The kids were vaguely interested in the moles but only slightly concerned about their impending demise.  Good.

The poison earthworm event was two days ago.  So far, no new tunnels.   The mole problem may be over. 

If not?   My husband insists that there is one thing guaranteed to vanquish moles, whatever the situation. 

(My idea was Sarah Palin, so I'd rather take his advice.)

 But be afraid.  Be very afraid.

What's in your yard?