To be, or not to be? A matter of moles....

To Be -or- Not To Be? I have a cute little mole living in my vermicompost bin. The question is, do I let him "BE" while he does what moles do best, eat 65 lbs of nasty grubs annually? Or do I "NOT TO BE", considering I would have ...to screen in my worm/compost bin because they also eat about 45 lbs of earthworms per year.

For a time I let my little mole live, every now and again I would see him scurry for cover when I turned the compost. I thought he was cute, seeing wildlife in action is fascinating, enlightening... a pleasure (most of the time). One day, while turning the compost, I noticed the number of worms in my bin seemed to have diminished, I was busy and didn't give it much thought. A few days later my husband, Matt, also noticed the worm population seemed to have decreased. Still the light didn't dawn.

Shortly thereafter my sister was visiting and between her, the dog and I, we managed to kill "the mole" (it was like a scene from Psycho, minus the shower curtain and the scary man dressed up like an old lady) Linda and I were armed with pitchforks, we both were stabbing just like two frenzied Anthony Perkins into the worm bin and when the little varmint nearly got away the dog saved the day by jumping into the bin, he grabbed the mole and tossed him into the vegetable garden. Linda and I ran after the flying mole and begin our Anthony Perkins impersonation in the middle of the bean patch. I was unsure, but Linda felt quite positive she got the worm eating vermin.
Two days later I was dumping scraps into the compost bin and there was another one... mole and ensuing scene from Psycho, this time without the shower curtain, sister or dog. I did the deed myself and felt a little sorry for the compost bin squatter. At least the worm population was finally safe.

Oh no my friend, contrary to what I believed, it was not over... a few days later, just to be on the safe side, my sister and I went armed with a plan and pitchforks. I pulled back the bin cover and Linda was on the ready with her pitchfork. Holy squirming masses, the bin was alive with moles, think not of Psycho, but "The Birds" moles, moles and more moles. More than I could count (but then they were moving which makes counting much more difficult). This time it was more like a scene from "I Love Lucy". Moles, pitchforks and two middle aged ladies bumping into each other and shouting directions to the dog, the moles and each other. The amazing thing is that they all managed to escape our frantic pitchfork jabbing.

I've learned where there is one mole they is sure to be two... then three... then five... I also learned that soon after there will be no worms where there used to be squirmy globs of them.
We emptied the worm bin contents into the garden, lined the bottom of the bin with metal mesh and started over. My thriving worm bin has not recovered yet, but it will and when it's healthy and squiggly they will be safe.