The groundhogs have to go.
For more than a year, they have hunted us, and we them.
Since the raid began, we have captured 2 chinchilla rats, 4 groundhogs, 1 opossum, and one very angry raccoon who, admittedly, was framed by the groundhogs.
You'd think we had rid ourselves.
Currently, one groundhog lies deceased in our "humane" trap as a warning to the others.
Their response? A sit in protest in the front yard.
One would also think our cat would do something. Anything.
But no. She is also on strike. We have the dog during one of the rainiest weeks in Siloam, so she can't come inside. Thus, she watches the groundhog with this look in her eye like, "See if I care, human."
My Amazon wishlist is full of murder devices.
My "humane release" heart has hardened.
Julius doesn't believe me that they could have found their way back across two tributaries and 10 miles.
But he doesn't know them like I know them.
Fools, well-meaning fools, have suggested we just "fill in the hole" into the crawlspace.
AS THOUGH WE HADN'T CONSIDERED THAT.
The heart wants what the heart wants, though, and they want in. Filling a hole won't deter them.
They'll just dig another.
We'll fill it.
They'll dig another.
We'll fill it.
They'll dig another.
And then the house sucks down into the ground like a Florida sinkhole. We've read the testimonies of fellow victims.
We will not make their mistakes. "[W]e are going to fight and our fight will be merciless".
