La joie est un escargot rampant

Cat Daddy and I were met with this scene when we came downstairs yesterday morning. The photos do not do it justice and, in real life, it was more horrifying than I ever thought possible:

Oui, Mesdames et Messieurs: this is snail juice. And, judging by the huge amount of ground covered in just one night, you would imagine a full-on gastropod party with several attendees. But a search of the area revealed just one culprit, and not a very large one at that (shown below with a 20p coin for scale). You can even see some of the sofa fibres stuck to it:

I have questions:

1. How did it get into the house? (Cat Daddy: “I think we both know the answer to that one.” And, regretfully, he has a point, because Louis Catorze has previous when it comes to bringing in slugs and snails. In case you missed the worst incident, here it is:

2. In the extremely unlikely event of Catorze not being responsible for bringing in the snail, why the flip didn’t the little sod try to stop this carnage? (Cat Daddy had no response to this one.)

Anyway, the snail juice was promptly cleaned up, with Cat Daddy philosophically declaring, “It could have been worse. At least it’s not bird shit.” (This is true. But it doesn’t really help.)

It’s a tragic day when the slasher-clawed killing machine that is your cat not only fails to stop the slowest animal in the world from wreaking silent havoc overnight, but most likely gave it a helping hand by carrying it in in his mouth or letting it hitch a ride on his fur. And, short of keeping Catorze in a cage for the rest of his life, I don’t see how we can prevent this horror from happening again. Any advice would be gratefully welcomed.

20 thoughts on “La joie est un escargot rampant

    1. I will try absolutely anything. My only worry is that Catorze will see the congregation of snails and slugs around the beer and attempt to bring them all in at once. So a bit like Uber Pool rather than normal Uber.


    1. We actually have considered cooking the ones Cat Daddy collects from the garden after a storm (15-20, maybe more, in total). But it takes a lot of preparation. Plus they have been slithering around in areas where Sa Maj has toiletted. 🤢


    1. It was unbelievably easy to clean, and just lifted off. Obviously I would rather not have had to do it at all, but hey ho. 😐


  1. had it been just a slug i could have found an out for Louis because they can flatten themselves and slither under doors, but the shell would seem to stop that. i suppose you could have something along the bottom of the door to ensure they don’t slither under….. but as for Catorze, pass…..

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Well, this is it. If they hitch a ride on his fur, we are powerless to stop it. What’s weird is that we were in that room for much of the early evening, so it must have bided its time somewhere until we were gone, and then rampaged across the sofa. I’d love to know what Catorze was doing when this was going on. (Sod all, clearly.)


  2. Salt will dehydrate them. If Le Roi won’t lick it, spread it around the most populated areas. Ask your local garden center which type.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I think it’s unlikely he would try to eat the salt, but he would pitter-patter in all those places and then groom his silly paws! I might try putting a line of salt around Le Château though. 🧂 🏰 🧂


      1. You can get slug traps you drop them into the earth fill either and put the lid on. The slugs go for the beer and fall on. Only you have to empty them…..but the lid would keep left round out…..

        Liked by 1 person

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