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She knew it would take something special to win Best Pest. When she saw the dog, she knew she'd found it

By Ross Raisin   September 2007

It is not like people expect. Most people think, as she probably did herself, once, that the moment the green pest control van parks up outside their house, their problems are at an end, and they give over their cupboards, their attics, the backs of their bathroom cabinets, with the same unblinking trust as they would unbutton their trousers for the doctor. Maybe it is the uniform. Or the armoury of traps and poisons, wire wool, gases, neatly packed inside the holdall. They have no idea at allhat it is actually like—the careless, cack-handed, sloppy, don’t-give-a-shit attitude most of the…

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