Home Invasion

Tim and I are relaxing on our front porch with cocktails enjoying a non-working Sunday. We survived Judgement Day - so we thought cocktails were in order. I am looking at our perennial garden, our new vegetable beds, pleased with all the work that we had completed on Saturday. I suddenly see this movement in the garden. There is this large 2 foot by 2 foot rodent running around our raised beds, sampling at the plants. I hiss at Tim - "Tim, what the Hell is that"? "Is that a woodchuck"? Tim says, "I don't know - eat the rhubarb leaves, eat the rhubarb leaves"! - as if the woodchuck can hear him? I turn towards him and ask, "why do you want it to eat the rhubarb"? "The leaves are poisonous". My eyes roll back into my head. "When were you going to tell me that they were poisonous? What if I had eaten them when you weren't here and died"? "Drama, drama, drama", he responds. We watch the woodchuck running around, chewing, climbing, being very annoying. We watch as he sniffs at the rhubarb, turns his nose up at it and wanders into the meadow. I tell Tim - "so much for the rhubarb".

The afternoon passes and as we are getting ready to leave, I see the woodchuck running through the garden again. "Cheez-it"! I storm towards the garden, get down on my knees and look under the garden shed and see his/her/it's silhouette hiding under the building. I start throwing rocks at it, yelling at it, kicking the shed, stomping on the floor of the shed - it disappears. All I need is some rabies-ridden woodchuck to attack me. I suddenly notice that there are these big holes in the ground next to the shed. "Tim"! Tim comes running - "Tim - look! It's living under the shed"! I start kicking and yelling at the shed as if it were under there. We plug the holes with big rocks and I go make a phone call to Mrs. M. "There is this woodchuck living under the garden shed - how do we get rid of it"? Pragmatic Mrs. M tells me about her own experience having to borrow a neighbor's Labrador. Knowing dogs as I do, I tell her - "I think we need a rat terrier"! Mrs. M doesn't know if there is a neighborhood rat terrier available. I grind my teeth. Arrgh! We will have to deal with this next weekend. This is War! Maybe Sookie will have to come up next weekend!