The rat patrol The Providence DPW wages war against rodents, but the rodents keep winning BY ERICA SAGRANS

At 7:30 each morning, Joe Boccanfuso sets out to search for rats. As one of Providence’s two rodent technicians, Boccanfuso scouts yards for rat holes. He examines woodpiles and debris that would make a cozy rat dwelling, and checks the walls and fences where the creatures might leave droppings.

Boccanfuso, an easygoing 53-year-old grandfather who enjoys talking with residents about their personal battles with rats, visits 15 to 20 houses each day in response to complaints called in to the city’s Department of Public Works. Since it is the adjacent yards, overflowing with uncovered trash, that often present the real problem, he remains aware that his work in "baiting" individual yards with rat poison is largely a Band-Aid solution. Baiting an entire block would be the rat-fighter’s ideal solution, but the high number of absentee landlords complicates this idea. Because each property owner must offer their permission for such a tactic, large-scale efforts can become difficult and slow to complete.

Meanwhile, the abundant and tasty food sources inadvertently set out by residents render Boccanfuso’s green poison pellets futile. As Anthony Nunez, associate director of public works, says, "If I offer you a T-bone steak or a cheeseburger, which are you going to choose?" The rats choose the trash every time.

According to Nunez, most rat complaints come from Olneyville, Silver Lake, and South Providence. Aimee Olin, an organizer for the Association of Community Organizations for Reform Now (ACORN), says rats present three main frustrations in the most affected areas: parents worry about their kids playing in rat-infested areas; residents must repeatedly spend money replacing trash cans chewed through by rats; and people dislike having their yards and building foundations dug up by the rodents. In each case, it’s not pleasant, and the longstanding nature of the problem proves doubly frustrating.

There is no shortage of theories as to why the rats persist. Some observers point to vacant lots that provide food and shelter for the animals. Nunez talks about high turnover of residents in the city, and the related need to educate new residents about trash and recycling regulations. In Boccanfuso’s view, rising rents and the many absentee landlords who don’t maintain their property add to the problem, which is significantly worse in the city’s poorer areas. "You’d think for the rents they charge, they’d fix their property," says Boccanfuso.

If it takes a village to get rid of rats — rather than a few lone warriors — then Providence may be rising to the challenge. The city has embarked on an automated trash program that aims to deprive rats of their food sources. The program, which will eventually distribute a 96-gallon trash bin with an attached lid to every household in the city, began as a pilot program in Olneyville in April.

The next phase is slated to distribute 15,000 more bins this month to selected parts of six neighborhoods — South Providence, Elmwood, Mount Hope, Olneyville, Silver Lake, and Smith Hill — and another 15,000 will be passed out in early 2006. The logic behind the first round is to start from the city borders and move inward, although trash pickup routes helped to shape the plan. Once bins are distributed to the city’s approximately 60,000 residences, municipal trash collectors will only accept trash put curbside in these bins, using trucks specially equipped to automatically lift and empty the bins and to spill less garbage onto streets along the way.

While the automated trash program is seen as a step toward solving the rat problem, not everyone is confident that bin distribution in itself will have the desired effect. Rachel Newman Greene, of the Elmwood Foundation, points out that existing ordinances already prohibit uncovered trash, and they don’t stop the piles of loose garbage from littering the streets on trash nights. Greene argues that increased education and enforcement of regulations are needed. "You can do everything in the world to prevent rats," she says, "but if the city isn’t collecting the garbage, or enforcing the regulations about how people are supposed to maintain their properties or dispose of their garbage, then there’s going to be no point to it."

In its defense, the DPW officials say they lack the necessary legal teeth to back up their tickets and fines. An offending party could decide to neither pay a fine nor clean up, for example, and the most the city can do is put a lien on the property, which may not come due for years.

Critics also express frustration with delays in implementing the anti-rat program (the bin distribution scheduled for this month was originally planned for last February). According to Greene, the slower the program proceeds, the more it will cost, since rising oil prices increase the cost of producing bins. Also unclear is whether funds will be allocated for the entire program, which is slated to cost $33 million. So far, there is money to distribute the first half of bins by 2006, but the timeline for the second round has not been set, nor the funding allocated.

Not surprisingly, rat infestation makes people angry in a way that few other issues do. From the Elmwood "rat attack team" to individual neighbors, residents have declared war on the pests, but it seems as though the rats win almost every time. Rats are smart little creatures — though nearly blind, they remember the paths they have traveled. Their skeletons are collapsible, allowing them to fit into holes as small as three-quarters of an inch wide.

In response to this onslaught, Joe Boccanfuso serves as something of a mobile rodent therapist, letting people vent and helping them to strategize. One West End resident was particularly angry and desperate, in part since a fearless rat ran through his legs during a summer barbecue. The man’s trash bins, distributed by the West Broadway Neighborhood Association, similar to the "rat-proof" bins that the city will eventually provide, were full of holes ringed with small teeth marks.

In light of this, I asked Boccanfuso whether the automated trash program will reduce the city’s rat population: "It’s gotta," he said firmly. Boccanfuso, however, warned not to underestimate the enemy. "The city can say ‘rat proof,’ as much as it wants," he said, "but rats can gnaw through brick if they set their mind to it."

Erica Sagrans can be reached at ericas@gmail.com.