Malcolm Barker: Claws are out as mankind struggles to win the Great Grey Squirrel War

On form, the RSPCA will oblige. This opulent charity took to court a window-cleaner who had been reported by a snooper for dumping a trapped squirrel in a water-butt. The unfortunate man admitted causing unnecessary suffering to the creature, and was granted a conditional discharge by magistrates in Staffordshire.

Moreover, despite his guilty plea, the RSPCA managed to accrue 1,547 in costs, which they were duly awarded and which their victim could probably ill afford. The case was brought under the 2006 Animal Welfare Act which, in view of all the implications, should be given priority for repeal by Mr Cameron. At a stroke, the RSPCA has used the act to turn many householders into potential criminals, for grey squirrels are widely regarded as pests, and trapping and drowning them is considered a good and abrupt way of getting rid of them.

The Great Grey Squirrel War is not one of words or weapons, but wits. Out-thinking a grey squirrel in search of food or a nesting place is a challenge for humankind.

We first encountered them when we moved into a house of mature years set in a garden. Our daughter, who was young at the time, informed us there were fairies on the roof, and when she was in bed she could hear their footfalls above her head. The intruders proved more substantial; a family of grey squirrel had found a way in and set up home in the loft. They were incontinent, and we were told they were notorious for chewing through electric wiring, so we wanted rid of them.

An expert suggested trapping, and releasing them at Harewood, which was on the way to work. Unwilling to impose them on the aristocracy, we called in builders instead and had the loft made squirrel-proof. Our rodent family removed themselves to a neighbour's. He tried trapping and releasing his captives at a business park some five miles away. Despite repeated successes, the squirrels never seemed to be fewer in number. Eventually, suspicions were aroused, and a squirrel was marked with a streak of paint before being freed. A few days later it turned up again. "Waggling its whiskers, and looking pleased with itself," said my disgruntled neighbour.

Despite their bushy tails and an overall appearance likely to appeal to a Walt Disney casting director, grey squirrels are tree rats, and

invaded this country from North America. They attack trees, chewing off the bark; they steal birds' eggs, snatch fledglings from nests, and

play havoc with bulbs planted in pots and flower beds. They have dislodged our native red squirrels. They compete with birds for food, and are frankly a damned nuisance. Worse, they carry a deadly squirrel pox virus to which they are immune, which is a good reason for guardians of our few remaining red squirrel colonies, like Mr Atthey in Morpeth, to wish to keep them at bay.

Our latest battle against them demonstrated the extent of their

determination and cunning. The house proving impregnable thanks to the builders' work in the loft, the hordes in grey laid siege to the

garage. Evidence that they had got in was provided by fragments of the brown outer skins of shelled peanuts surrounding the plastic biscuit box in which they were kept. The lid of the box had somehow been dislodged and pushed aside.

On the assumption that the lid must have been loose, the first counter-attack was launched by closing the box firmly. It was soon off again. Next, we tried balancing a pair of garden shears on the closed lid. We found them on the floor, the lid askew, and more nuts gone. Our final attempt to repel the enemy was by balancing two bricks on the lid. It worked a treat, but the grey squirrels countered brilliantly. They chewed though the plastic side of the box. We retreated in disarray, removing the birds' nuts from the garage and taking them into the house.

If drowning trapped squirrels is deemed to cause "unnecessary suffering", is there a legal means of disposing of them? Shooting might be an option, but only if death is instantaneous. Even if I was

possessed of a legal weapon, I doubt whether I could have used it effectively, for the arm that once bore a Marksman's Badge is not as steady as it was. Wounding a squirrel does not bear consideration, nor does bludgeoning. Transporting captive squirrels to the vets' surgery for a fatal injection would surely be as stressful for the creature as a quick plunge into cold water, not to mention the expense.

Some people are wondering just how far the 2006 Animal Welfare Act goes, and whether perhaps it is possible to fall foul of its provisions by getting rid of such pests as rats, rabbits and moles.

Meanwhile, the Great Squirrel War rumbles on. Their successors in our loft were wasps, who built a miraculously delicate nest, but who took an aggressive stance which meant they had to go. With uncertainty about the law and Mr Atthey awaiting his fate after being visited by an RSPCA inspector, taken in handcuffs to a police station by two policemen, and detained for nine hours, discretion becomes the better part of valour, and I will draw a veil over the insects' subsequent fate.

Malcolm Barker is a former editor of the Yorkshire Evening Post.