The pitch for the Steel City Ratting Coalition couldn’t be any clearer.
“Yinz got rats? We’ll bring the dogs dahn,” reads the group’s Facebook page.
On a Sunday evening, the ratting group — which uses dogs to hunt and kill rats for pest control, also known as canine rat abatement — is called to an Ohio poultry farm. The property owners spotted rats scurrying from their peacock coop, an 1820s building original to the site. In addition to the well-known disease risk and property destruction that a rat infestation brings, rats are also known to steal eggs and eat chicks and goslings.
“If you have chickens, you have rats,” the property owners tell Pittsburgh City Paper. Once the rats invaded their coop, they killed a brood of 24 goslings in a single night, impacting a conservation breed on the endangered species list.
“It was the most heartbreaking thing ever. They are ruthless,” the farmers say.
After the rats outsmarted traps and the resident barn cats — and not wanting to use rat poison that could harm other animals or their young children — the farmers sought out the Steel City Ratting Coalition.
Since its creation in fall 2024, SCRC, the only organized ratting group in the region, has made the rounds, accepting jobs anywhere within an hour’s drive of Pittsburgh, and joining a roster of modern ratting organizations springing up worldwide to revive a centuries-old practice. Despite ratting’s long history, the group contends its aims are now entirely modern, providing an “eco friendly and more efficient/humane alternative to traps and poisons.”
While the Pittsburgh group mostly tackles rural areas, where property lines are clear, the dogs can work off a long-line harness in the city and could “totally do alleyways,” founder Amanda Barnes tells City Paper.
At the Ohio farm, Bob, a wiry border terrier, springs into action, sniffing around the coop’s perimeter and immediately picking up a trail so hot that he starts biting and pawing at the building’s siding. After running inside the coop, a rat rouses, and Bob nabs, shakes, and kills it instantly before dropping and turning it over to Barnes, his handler. In it for the thrill of the chase, the dogs don’t eat the rats, immediately moving to their next target and leaving Barnes to scoop kills into a “rat bucket.”
Barnes and her husband James started the Steel City Ratting Coalition to offer what she describes as mutual aid to farmers and others needing help with rodent infestations. Currently, the volunteer-run group doesn’t charge for its services, accepting only gas money and occasional treats for the dogs.
Barnes says the idea for a ratting group formed after her family bought Bob as a puppy to train as a ratting dog for their own poultry farm in Upper Burrell Township. After guiding Bob not to hurt other livestock (called “proofing”), the border terrier killed 40 rats on the Barnes’ farm in one weekend.
“And that was him doing all the work, finding the dens, and digging,” Barnes says. “We learned to work with him, watched lots of YouTube videos. When he didn’t have any more work at home, I decided maybe some other farmers needed some help, too. I asked a couple different dog groups, and that’s how I met these handlers.”
“A couple times a month, we meet up, and sometimes we get a whole bucket full of dead rats,” she says.
Echoing her clients’ sentiments, Barnes says farmers have grown more environmentally conscious and aware of the effects of rat poison on wildlife. The use of ratting dogs is also increasing again in urban areas as rats develop immunity to poison.
“So the dogs are the best bet,” Barnes says.
In addition to the group’s assertion that using ratting dogs is the most environmentally-friendly, humane, and efficient way to get rid of rats, SCRC says the practice also benefits the dogs, most of whom instinctively chase and kill rats.
“I love to see dogs doing what they were bred to do, and getting to fill historical duties and meet all their needs, mentally and physically,” Barnes says. “Dead rats are always a bonus, and we love to be able to work the dogs.”
Ratting, or rat hunting, is, of course, not new. Dating back to medieval times, rat-catching was essential to maintain crops and curb diseases including the Black Plague. Rat-catcher was a respected profession, and those who employed dogs were the most efficient and in the highest demand. (The legendary Pied Piper from the Brothers Grimm tale was supposedly a rat catcher.)
Over time, ratting evolved into organized competitions, particularly during the Victorian era, where rat-baiting, which pitted dogs against rats in a “rat pit” for entertainment and gambling, became a blood sport. At its height, dogs were encouraged to kill a rat every five seconds. As public concern increased for animal welfare, the sport lost popularity and was widely outlawed at the beginning of the 20th century.
Today, Barn Hunt is a competitive sport where dogs sniff out tame pet rats hidden in hard tubes that prevent the rats from being harmed. The Barn Hunt Association website notes that some dog breeds were “specifically created” to fill a ratting role, and the modern sport “provides their first true opportunity for responsible breeders to test proper working traits in their dogs.”
Savannah Simms and her dog Flora, a black and white pit bull, joined the Steel City Ratting Coalition after Flora excelled at Barn Hunt.
“My dog in particular, she’s always been really prey-driven,” Simms tells CP. “She’s always gone after critters, and she loves that.”
Simms, a city dweller in West View, also believes in the importance of giving her dog “biologically fulfilling” activities. In addition to Barn Hunt, Simms shares videos of Flora at tracking practice, going ratting (“her favorite thing”), and competing in dock diving for dogs.
Kayla Campbell of Morgantown, W.Va., who handles Ashlyn, a border collie, says her dog goes against type. While border collies are typically herding dogs, Ashlyn took an interest in hunting rodents at their local feed store.
“She has naughty habits. She likes to kill things,” Campbell tells CP. “This is a healthy outlet for that.”
Bob, Flora, and Ashlyn are the three regulars among a core group of about eight dogs, including a miniature pinscher and dachshunds.
But Bob, as the group’s first dog and the terrier, has the star power, and the rainbow-colored SCRC logo features him carrying a rat.
“He’s so cute, and he does everything. He’s a show dog,” Simms says.
Though all the SCRC dogs are working dogs, and most are considered ratting dogs, the terrier is literally a breed apart, established more than 200 years ago specifically for “vermin hunting.” The American Kennel Club describes the border terrier standard as a “tough, no-frills working terrier” and a “plucky, happy, and affectionate dog.”
During the Ohio job, everyone in the group shouts for Bob, who also goes by Bobby, Rob, and Robbie — spelled “the ’80s way,” Barnes says, ending in “-ie” — after Rob Halford, heavy metal singer of Judas Priest. (Among Bob’s registered show dog names are “You’ve Got Another Thing Comin’” after the hit Judas Priest song.)
After nearly a year of working together, the dogs have established a pack rhythm. SCRC is frequently asked what training the dogs require, but Simms says the need is minimal as “they’re always on the job, they’re always looking for critters.”
“Usually, Robbie will get in[to] something, he’ll get in a floor, he’ll get in a wall, he’ll get in a hole,” Barnes explains. “And then he kills whatever’s in there, and whatever runs out. Then, the big dogs grab. The big dogs are the catch dogs. So everybody works really well together.”
The dogs even have signature moves.
“Ashlyn will stare down a hole and wait for something to come out or to dive in,” Simms says. “Flora huffs, takes big, deep breaths off the dirt. Bobby grumbles, so he’ll make little noises. And as soon as you hear it — it’s a very specific noise. If you hear it, you’ll immediately know [there’s a rat].”
At Bob’s urging, the Barneses and the property owners jump in to lift stall mats out of the coop, revealing a rat den inside a hollow block in the building’s foundation.
While Barnes says most homeowners are interested in “having the dogs come out and kill a bunch of rats,” often they illuminate problem areas, showing where foam or additional rat traps can be added, or where to seal off cracks and “block all the little nooks and crannies” the dogs can’t access. The group also uses water to show where burrows are and to flush out rats. Displacing the den also helps wipe them out.
Just when it seems like the dogs are winding down after killing about six rats in an hour, Bob moves to another coop nearby and starts digging. Flora bounds behind, and suddenly both dogs are barking.
“Found a horde!” Barnes shouts, and a rat-killing frenzy ensues. Rats, it turns out, scream, and with the dogs after them, they start running out of the coop en masse.
“Yeah, good girl, Flora! Got it in her mouth. Good girl!” Simms yells. “There’s another one! Flora, you’re missing them! Go get ’em!”
“There it is! Get it, Ashlyn! She got it,” Campbell says proudly.
Rats in mortal peril sometimes bite back, so the dogs’ handlers will jump in to treat their wounds. There’s always concern about potential disease, and the group also remains vigilant about keeping the dogs’ vaccinations up to date.
This time, Flora gets bitten on the nose, though it doesn’t slow her down.
“They’re slamming rats off the wall,” Barnes says.
“Bob is a champ!” one of the property owners says. After a slow but steady start in the first hour, the dogs “probably caught like 12 rats in 10 minutes.”
At the end of every job, SCRC has a tradition of taking a group photo with all the rats laid out on a tray. Today, they celebrate an even 20 kills.
“Usually, I hold the biggest rat next to Bobby so you can see how big the rats are, because that rat’s bigger than his head is,” Barnes says.
As gruesome as it might seem, the group’s put a dent in a major rat infestation, destroying dens and tunnels using no chemicals, all while keeping their dogs engaged. They leave the homeowners grateful.
“That’s 20 rats we didn’t catch,” they say, also noting they now have a plan for securing their coops.
After a break, the dogs will be ready to hunt again, and have to be carted home.
“We’ll hose everybody off, collect our tools,” Barnes says.
“The hope is that this catches on.”
This article appears in Jul 30 – Aug 5, 2025.
