By Mary Cristy

Los Altos Hills residents Pat and Russell Shonberg had a five-month frolic with a super-rat who apparently wanted to be a squirrel.

The first evidence of an alien in a Shonberg vehicle surfaced last November, when Pat’s screaming yellow Volkswagen showed a red “check engine” light. A check by the Gilroy dealer who had sold Pat the car revealed a huge nest packed to capacity with acorns.

“An intake hose and a smog line had been riddled with holes,” Russell reported. “I thought, ‘What a clever squirrel this was to take refuge in a nice dry spot near lots of insulation for his nest, and acorns for food.’” Russell ponied up $l65 for repairs and drove home.

Six weeks later the “check engine” light flared again. This time, when Russell lifted the hood there was a nest-in-progress but no obvious damage. However, when Russell had the car checked he learned that one hose and an intake line had been gnawed through. This was war!

“When I got home I set up a Hav-A-Heart trap, baited with grain and peanut butter. No takers! I decided to keep a watch on our other vehicles. The pickup indeed had a beginning nest and acorns. The seldom-driven Ford Escort had a splendid nest fashioned from under-the-hood insulation and acorns.”

Russell destroyed the nest and dumped the acorns. Surely the squirrel would get discouraged and move. Not so.

“But one day Pat decided to check the Escort and came in looking pale. She had lifted the hood and come face to face with a king-sized rat! I bought a king-sized box of D-Con guaranteed to kill. My rat never read the label.”

Russell spread poison pellets with a lavish hand. Next day the pellets were gone. The rat wasn’t. When Russell lifted the hood the rat looked back at him curiously. “Then he scurried down into the bowels of the car, his energy undiminished. He was now building pellets into his nest.”

Frustrated, Russell resorted to rattraps baited with peanut butter he was assured rats find irresistible.

A trap in the VW and another in the Escort had been licked clean, but neither trap had sprung.

“I found out how strong they were when one tripped on my finger.” He baited them with peanut butter and placed a big cashew nut on top. To this he added two more poisons.

“Next day the cashew was gone, but the peanut butter and poisons were untouched, and the rat had the nerve to surround the area with acorn shells. By this time I had developed a respect for the varmint,” Russell said.

The “check engine” light went on again in the VW. By now repair bills were more than $300, plus hours of travel time, and many dollars for traps and poisons.

Russell turned to the Internet. The Web turned up a clever device called a Rat-Zapper, which promised to electrocute the rat. But he had to lure the rat into the opening.

“Put the trap near the rat,” the instructions said. This was easy. Then, food was to be placed at intervals, such as at the beginning, middle and end of the device. The power was to be left off until the rat had made it to the far end.

Russell baited. The rat ate the food at the entrance. A second try with pellets found that even those at the entrance were ignored. Acorns went into the bait receptacles.

The next day Russell realized the acorns had been placed wrong and had caused a short circuit that rendered the trap harmless. With so many failures and a trip out of town in the offing, Russell held little hope of outsmarting the super-rat.

But at last, success crowned his efforts. The rat made it to the far end of the acorn trail, where he died ignominiously … like a dirty rat. With his tail hanging out of the tunnel that had been his undoing.

“I felt a little pride that I was able to use modern technology to prevail,” Russell admitted, but, “There was a pang of regret to have disposed of such a handsome and clever opponent.”

After five months the saga has ended … maybe …