Alys Fowler: monster slugs


The time has come to prepare for battle. I am wary of fighting talk when it comes to nature, but there will be guts and gore. I figure if you are reading a gardening column in February, you're in this for the long haul, so arm yourself and united we'll go forth.
You may have heard of the fat slugs recently identified as Arion vulgaris, aka the superslug/killer slug/Spanish slug, though I think we should just go with "the monster". Last year it was thought the Spanish stealth slug, A. flagellus, was invading our washed-out gardens. The stealth slug has been with us since the second world war and it was believed that our wet summer meant it was on the increase, but it turns out it has a friend – and this friend eats everything.
It is not easy to identify A. vulgaris. You have to cut out the genitalia of a mature slug for a precise identification. It varies in colour and can look remarkably like our chocolate slug, A. rufus (which is rather harmless and best suited to the compost heap), or A. ater, the "big and black, put it back" slug (another compost heap regular). There are reports it can interbreed with these guys, too.
A. vulgaris is partial to plants but it likes carrion, too, including dead slugs. It also munches dog poo, cat food and dead rabbits, and I've seen it chow down on human vomit. That makes it repulsive and problematic. Who wants a slug that's been eating dog poo sliming across their lettuce patch? The Spanish slug also carries parasites, in particular lungworm, which is potentially fatal to pets and wildlife such as hedgehogs.
So here's the plan. Forget organic slug pellets; these guys are made of something else. Also forget stamping on them. This just attracts more to dine on their dead friends, and any pet or wildlife that walks on slimed slugs will lick its paws and potentially pick up parasites.
Our best method of control is still collect-and-dispose. Sugar tongs are good for scooping up slugs. Then put them in boiling water or drown them in beer (a word of warning: they swim well) and bury the bodies.
Dr Ian Bedford, head of entomology at the John Innes Centre, collected 300 slugs from his garden one morning last summer. Most of us would reel in horror, but as an entomologist he's taken a different stance. Here's our glimmer of hope: Bedford is working on a bait that he hopes to release this spring – something so intoxicatingly good, it lures slugs in their hundreds. How you dispose of them is then up to you. Personally, I'll be putting the kettle on.
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