We will NOT negotiate* with garden terrorists…
* But we will feed them organic produce and send them on a FREE all-expenses-paid exotic vacation.
Ode to the menace I’ve named “BROWNDOG, LOL.”
He will also answer to “crap-weasel,” or “here is some lovely lettuce and brussel sprouts.”
My sister Sharon and I share a common enemy. Marmota monax. Latin for Terrorist Varmit.
Cute, right? Name a holiday after it!! A movie!! Call it sweet things like “woodchuck” and wonder about how much wood it would chuck….If it only could.
Bake it a bless-ed cupcake.
Here’s that little sweetie now–
or more commonly
That gaping maw is where it will put your garden. Your WHOLE garden. This blog has some beautiful illustrations of the havoc they can wreak on a garden. This is just what the NJ sister and I have experienced without the nice pics to show you.
The almighty WIKI reports that most live 2-3 years… except for that little trucker Wee Wiarton Willie– who lived for 22 years. Ours lives under the front porch in a nice cave dwelling with garden terrace. He often rolls out of bed to a loverly breakfast al fresca. For the past years he’s eaten a mile-wide path of destruction through anything we’ve grown in the garden. Except peppers and basil. He likes to shake it up too… last year he waited a long while and employed the element of “SURPRISE, I didn’t die over the winter.”
I DO love me some Guinea Pigs and Hedgehog, but Hates. Him.
Maybe he is dead this year?? It’s been 2 of the could-be-3 year life span…
Not tough enough for bad-nature-karma-death-tactics, we are trying the havahart dining-car.
If LOL happens to be DEAD– rest his angelic soul– the havahart will reside like the sublime-Buddah-shrine in a nail salon. I will place offerings of fruit and burn sweet incense all season long in honor of our varmit-free renaissance. Maybe we’ll catch a raccoon or 2.. Or some of Erin’s stealthy cats. Please note, previously promised vacations are only for LOL.
I somehow doubt that dreamy possibility however… As Jim says, “Make your own luck.”
That there is what Sharney and I like to call the FOUR DOLLAR CANTALOUPE.
Praying for this–
Here is a bit of information on what to do next… Don’t worry, I’ll be sticking a stamp on him and sending him some place legal to release him… Or at least it won’t be near your yard. 
This is the most awesome exterminator since Sir Burroughs. Maybe we’ll call him in if old LOL wins again.
I’ve also decided that it’s maybe about time to start researching “We’ll come and fix your house up shows.” I think it might be our end-of-the-world strategy.
God save the Queen.
Back to my spinning wheel.
