The Critter Chronicles: Part One of an Occasional Series

animal behavior, humor, The natural world 4 Minutes
Photo by Oleg Mikhailenko on Pexels.com

For a few months, nearly every day in our back yard was Groundhog Day.

We were not happy.

Why was the presence of groundhogs, aka woodchucks, aka groundpigs, aka whistle pigs, a problem? We live harmoniously with squirrels, bunnies, chipmunks—all drawn, no doubt, by the zillion dollars’ worth of bird seed dropped by the variegated winged children we’ve adopted. (Years ago, I wrote an essay I called “Our Family Budget Is for the Birds.” But I digress.)

If these big burly rodents had simply fed themselves and left, we would have regarded them as a new addition to our wildlife menagerie. They seemed to particularly enjoy nibbling the weeds growing along our fence. They’re vegetarians, after all. “Have at it, guys,” would have been our attitude.

Some facts: They can scarf down more than a pound of vegetation at a time; that’s the equivalent of a 150-pound man devouring a 15-pound steak.

During the warm seasons, they pack their internal suitcases for a hibernation period that’s sometimes six months long—one helluva nap!

But woodchucks (the term I’ll use) burrow. Man, do they burrow! Their elaborate underground homes generally have one front door and up to four back doors. I envisioned elaborate Roman cities not far below the surface.

Unfortunately, the woodchuck(s) in residence chose to make their front door damned near ours. They dug under close to our front steps, shoveling heaps of dirt behind them.

I do love animals, and I appreciate that though our house is quite old, the predecessors of the gang that wants to burrow underneath it were probably here longer.

But good grief!

We filled the holes. They redug.

We filled flower pots with dirt and put them over their entrance. They upended the pots—and redug.

We placed old metal shelving over the hole and put the weighted flower pots on top of it all. They found a way around that too—and redug.

I must admit, I admired the rodential diligence with which one or more of our adversaries repeatedly outwitted our attempts to block its/their derring-do.

Meanwhile, the back doors were appearing hither and yon. These burrowers’ skills are remarkable. We saw one from our kitchen window, digging with astonishing speed, claws and mouth perfectly synced to remove the largest amount of soil as efficiently as possible.

Turns out their mouths are well-equipped for eating and digging, with incisors that grow about a sixteenth of an inch per week. We’d previously had trouble planting flower bulbs in our rocky, root-filled soil. Too bad we couldn’t train them to prepare the ground for us.

Our research yielded varying methods for driving the woodchucks away, but the value of these deterrents was problematic.

According to the above source:

“If you have one or more groundhogs that typically frequent your garden, deterrents will not likely be effective since the animals know there is a food source available.”

We decided to turn our problem over to The Professionals and entered into a Critter Carry-Away Contract with a Critter Company that was highly recommended by the pest control folks who have kept our old house termite-free for decades.

That meant plunking down what seemed like an exorbitant amount of money to have a guy set some traps, check them every day—for a mere five days—and transport the presumed occupant(s) in the sprung trap(s) to a happy place far away from our suburban home.

It was a tense week, and of course the critters didn’t appear for days. At week’s end, the company’s efforts had yielded:

–One raccoon, transported to a happy place
–One frantic squirrel, released to rejoin the scurry (that’s the colorful onomatopoeic name for a group of squirrels, I learned, though you rarely see that many together)
–Two opossums, resting comfortably in the traps—evidently having been through this scenario before and confident it was temporary—also released.

When the critter company rep said their final act would be to pour concrete into the hole near our front steps, I had some anxious moments. He claimed that it was just the right time to act because soon the mommy woodchuck would be nestling into her underground nursery with the babes.

But my research suggested that the babies might already be down there, and as badly as I wanted to get rid of them, suffocation was not my preferred method.

Fortunately, there was a period of several more days with no activity, persuading everyone that the coast was clear.

After the work was done, we had one lone sighting of a well-fed interloper. My husband blocked off a hole in the fence between our neighbor’s yard and ours—a point where I had watched in amazement as the rotund rodent flattened itself with a limbo dancer’s skill and crawled through.

Maybe knowing their front door was blocked, they decided that entering our yard was no longer worth it.

It’s now been close to a month since our last Groundhog Day. So perhaps this is not only the first in a series, but also the last.

On the other hand, a friend who lived not far from here for many years informed me based on her experience that although a period of years may pass, they–or their progeny—will be back.

Why not? Comfy, roomy winter quarters await them, preceded by months of an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Annie

Published by annieasksyou

I've been a nonfiction writer for many years, exploring diverse topics that pique my curiosity, as noted in my first blog posting (Greetings!). I'm seeking dialogue with others committed to joining me in this exploration, sharing my conviction that different views can be exchanged in a respectful, civil discourse where we can learn from one another and be agreeable, even when we disagree. These postings depend for their enrichment on your participation: your ideas, insights, knowledge, opinions, and personal stories.

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47 thoughts on “The Critter Chronicles: Part One of an Occasional Series”

      4. I have the experience of living for a few years in an apartment on Baker Street in London, just opposite the Selfridges Store. Yes, it was very comfortable, private, and quiet. But now I live in a house with a large garden, full of roses and hydrangeas, and trees and flowers that I planted.
        The scent of the flowers when I open the door to the garden is so wonderful, that I wrote in one of my posts, ‘When I think of paradise, it starts with my garden.’ But then living in England I don’t have Annie’s problem, although, as I love animals too, my garden is an organic wildlife place where
        birds, frogs, hedgehogs, and all the pollinators like bumblebees are welcome.

        Joanna

        Liked by 5 people

  2. Free vegetarian food, elaborate Roman cities, and naps that last six months? How can I get in on this?

    Just as well you got rid of them, though. With a whole passel of groundhogs seeing their shadows at various times, your seasons would have been a complete mess.

    Thanks for the funny post. I think we all needed one.

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    1. Thank you, Infidel! Your second paragraph led me to conjure up a Gary Larson/Far Side type image of our back yard with sundry perplexed-looking groundhogs dressed for disparate kinds of weather.

      So glad to spread a little cheer.

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  3. I bought a mobile home 20 years ago in a large urban center here in California. So far, I have hosted a skunk and a family of possums under my home. The skunk sprayed once (yuck) and then was evicted. The possums ate their way through most of my insulation and were evicted. Then, there was the attack of the frat boy raccoons. I had just gone to bed and heard a whoom! on the side of my bedroom. They tried all the windows, under the house (by then it was every opening was sealed), and the grates on the side. They also worked the back door handle. I think they smelled my cats’ food.

    I love all of God’s furry little creatures, but if I even get the hint of a squatter under the house, I’m on the phone right away!

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  4. They sure were determined! And it’s quite impressive how much and how fast they can eat and dig. I’m glad you handelled the situation so humanely. I’m also in awe of how many creatures visit your garden. In the Netherlands, due to our pond, we had the odd aquatic visitor like frogs or a heron we used to have to scare away from the fish. I would’ve loved squirrel visitors though as they’re my favourite animals.

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    1. Wish I could send you some of our squirrels, Simone. They’re ubiquitous, climbing up the bird feeders, which are designed to close up from their weight. They sometimes leap from our deck to our kitchen window sill on what I assume is a foraging expedition.

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  5. Ace is a talker. He as far as I know has never caught or killed a fellow earthling but he will chat with them until they go deaf. One day one of our scurry got caught in a rat trap and drug it home where he was unable to climb the tree. Ace stood over him shouting encouragement to climb as he repeated fell from the tree. The commotion alerted me and we were able to free him from the trap. He was simerly able to convince the groundhog making a home under the shed to relocate to the culvert across the street in the neighbor’s yard. He’s chatty and a firm believer that squirrels should be in the trees and that rabbits like nothing more than a foot race yelling and squealing all the way.

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  8. Wonderful story, Annie! Like you, we have birds and squirrels that visit on a daily basis and the birdseed is not cheap! Between food for our 5 cats, peanuts for the squirrels, and birdseed, a couple of weeks ago my weekly grocery receipt showed I spend more on critter food than I did on human food. Still, they bring us much joy. I hope your groundhogs have moved on and found someplace to be happy now! Thanks for the chuckles!

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      1. Yes, they are all indoor cats … we did have 10 at one time! They are all rescue cats with a variety of problems, both emotional and physical, so they are special needs kitties in one sense or another. It’s funny to watch the squirrels and the birds … sometimes the birds steal the peanuts, and the squirrels retaliate by eating the bird seed! There are some huge birds, they stand about 2.5 feet tall, that come to feast sometimes, but as big as they are, they are petrified of the squirrels, who promptly send them packing! Isn’t nature grand?

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      2. Special needs cats! Kudos for that! Have you blogged about them? I’d like to read those tail tales.

        Yes, nature’s grand. And we know that some species, at least, are oblivious to size. Our late and still much-lamented collie/shepherd (over 80 pounds) was once at a doggie day care center where they couldn’t get him to come indoors after outdoor play. They sent a chihuahua out after him, and he came running back in.

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      3. Indeed, I wrote an entire post … well, I helped THEM write a post … back in 2018. At that time we still had 7, now down to 5, as Orange and Nala have since died. I think you’ll enjoy it: https://jilldennison.com/2018/05/19/meet-the-significant-seven/

        Ha ha … I love the story of your big dog and the chihuahua!!! I had a big dog once … a mix between a border collie and Rottweiler. He was the gentlest dog … weighed around 80 pounds, but still thought he was a lapdog! And SMART! I worked long hours and lived alone … just me and Gomer (the dog, so named because he kept running into the sliding glass door!), so when I came home at night, I usually just fixed myself a sandwich. As soon as I would sit down at the table, Gomer would run to the front door, barking his fool head off. So, I would get up to see who was at the door … nobody, of course … and when I returned to the kitchen table, my sandwich would be gone! Now, it took me about 2 weeks to catch on to his tricks and learn to ignore his antics, so I’d say that made him smarter than me!

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      4. Oh, Jill! What delightful stories—about both Gomer Einstein and your feline family. Don’t know how you do it! But I certainly understand and respect the impetus and emotions that have led you dear women to create your very special, loving “cat house.”💐

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      5. We have never been ‘pet-less’ that I can recall, and I don’t even want to imagine life without our furry family members. We are soon going to lose Pandi, for she had tumours removed last year that a biopsy showed were malignant, and now she has another, so when it comes to the point that she is in pain, we will do what needs to be done … and shed a few tears. We are definitely known in the neighborhood as the “Crazy Cat Ladies”!!! I’m glad you enjoyed the post … I might reprise it one day soon!

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      6. Sorry to hear about Pandi. That’s the biggest downside sharing your life with animals. The loss is huge.

        On a cheerier note, Jill, you should definitely write about your gang again soon!

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      7. It is, and I know that some people, upon losing a beloved pet, say they will never have another. But for me … the memories, the joy they bring, the love … makes it all worthwhile.

        Thanks, Annie! I showed the post I sent you to the girls … we had all forgotten about it and it was so much fun to see all those old pictures again! I might do a new one, or just reprise that one!

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  12. funny – & interesting – when I first moved into my home, it was my first time gardening. lucky for me, soon after I got the best advice ever – that if critters, environmental factors, etc., continually thwart whatever I’m planting, just plant something different. lately I’ve been amazed by the squirrels around who delight to no end taunting my doggie lol. not sure if they’re super crabby or they have amazing senses of humor – before having a dog, I never knew squirrels even made noise!

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  13. The garden visitors are various here, bound by a common denominator determination. Right now it’s the rabbits, responsible for various nibbled out areas but who are not, actually, the culprit on the the chard. The squirrels pick it — who have guessed? — and munch right down a stalk. Earlier this spring the groundhog and her babies frequently turned up dead center of a bed lazily consuming all before heading for their network. Farmer friends gave us various “fixes,” none of which we tried as they seemed to have moved away. Maybe someone else on the tunnel system dropped down gas-soaked tennis balls or used kitty litter or caught them and gave them a new home . . .

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    1. Aha! Report from the countryside! Your stakes are much higher; we have no vegetable garden, and they weren’t interested in the flowers.

      Hope they’re gone for good. Gas-soaked tennis balls don’t sound so great.

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  14. I can only hope they don’t become vengeful after reading this blog! I wonder if the other critters are happy for their hopefully permanent departure. I’m sorry for this dilemma, Annie.. but once again you made me smile and laugh ❣️👏🏻🌸

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