That Darn, Frigging Cat

"In ancient times cats were worshipped as gods; they have not forgotten this."

                                                                                                                                      Terry Pratchett 

AUBURN, Maine — I watched through my binoculars from the back porch, hoping to catch another glimpse of the two perpetrators ravaging my garden.

I thought when I captured one groundhog that was tormenting my plants that would be the end of it, but I had hard evidence that the creatures had returned and witnessed them in the act twice.

A Have a Hart trap was set in the corner of the yard near my neighbor's fence to catch the bastards, which work in tandem. I trained my binoculars on the cage, and sure enough, the hairy groundhog began munching on a trail of broccoli. It sat on its fat ass enjoying its free dinner.

"C'mon, you son of bitch. trip that frigging trap so I can remove your fat ass from my premises, " I said to myself.

The groundhog kept gnawing away on the vegetable when a cat suddenly popped out from under the fence and behind the ravenous and unsuspecting groundhog.

I couldn't believe I was viewing the whole damn thing through my binoculars.

"What the fu-- is a cat doing there? Wait a minute, that's my fu--ing cat," I yelled from the porch.

The f-bombs continued to fly. I began carpet bombing my home with obscenities.

My stunned cat gave the shocked groundhog that look of  "what the fu#$@ are you doing here. This is my territory."

Both animals suddenly bolted in opposite directions. That darn cat ruined my chance to bag the bastard who has been swiping free vegetables from my garden.

"Thanks a lot, Tabby," I bellowed from the back porch.

Tabby is a great cat, but enjoys too much sex and brawling with other felines in the neighborhood. We have spent hundreds of dollars repairing his wounds after countless cat fights. He looks like Rocky Balboa after going 15 rounds with Apollo, and I am like Rocky's manager, Mick, cursing whenever we have to go to the vet and open our empty wallets.

And yet, he is like sentry patrolling the yard, keeping destructive critters off our property.

But at the end of this month, Tabby is going to be fixed, which means he won't like us for a month, and I will save money.

In the meantime, I will relentlessly pursue the two groundhogs. I have placed a bounty on their heads. 

I still have a good shot at capturing them — if that darn cat of mine stays away.

For the moment, though, the two slippery groundhogs have been granted a reprieve from my cat.

Just a footnote

Despite my cat's best efforts to screw up my attempts to catch and relocate a pair of pesky groundhogs, I caught one of the varmints Sunday night. He was cute little bugger, so we took him for quick ride and gently released it at an undisclosed location away from homes. You should have seen this thing bolt down a well-worn path in the woods.

Right now, I feel like a cab driver dropping off rodents to their new homes.

But my son and wife won't allow me to permanently remove the cute rats, so I have become a great humanitarian and a good friend to all animals great and small.

This critter is grounded

"One touch of nature makes the whole world kin." 

                                                                 

                                                                        William Shakespeare

AUBURN, Maine — Here is another job I can add to my resume — trapper.

For several weeks, I noticed a nibble here, a nibble there as my broccoli plants were slowly being chewed to pieces. The phantom animal moved on to sample my cucumbers. 

What was next? My tomato plants! 

No way! This was my home and my garden was under assault. It was time to go to Defcon 5 and issue an APB on this elusive critter.

Whenever I turned my back, the culprit, which dropped in for breakfast, lunch, and dinner nearly everyday, is no stranger to gardeners across New England. 

Groundhogs are hated by green thumbs who the brave the elements, bugs and wildlife to grow vegetables. Groundhogs are the reason why makers of steel traps remain in business. There is no high-tech method to remove these scourges.

These fat bastards are said to be cuddly and cute, but let's remember it is a god damn rodent that is a nuisance as well as destructive. 

But it was time to throw down the gauntlet and take this sneaky rat out for a walk. I wanted to kill it, but my son, who has a kind heart and is a friend to all animals, persuaded me to cut the slovenly woodchuck a pardon. He said it would look stupid for big guy like me to beat up on a four-pound animal that is only guilty of doing what comes naturally to its species.

I cursed the groundhog's existence and threatened to the drop the fat fellow from a rope, but I listened to my family's common sense not to harm the gnawer, which treated my garden as its own personal smorgasbord.

My next door neighbor, Don, who often uses one of those effective Have-aHart traps to bag groundhogs, gave me permission to use his cage and trap the elusive bastard.

I set the trap, hoping this wasn't the brightest bulb in his family of adorable rats. But after a week, the varmint hadn't taken the bait. I figured the fluffy fat hairball knew what I was up to or found another garden to satisfy its insatiable appetite.

I had one more opportunity to capture the elusive groundhog. I decided to switch bait and go with a couple of sweet slices of watermelon to lure it into the trap.

I went to work Friday night when I received an urgent call from my wife. "Anthony found the groundhog in the trap," my wife said. "Wanna come home and see it."

I knew I could not leave work and told her that the old fat bastard would have to spend the night in our yard in a cage. 

It was not a happy critter.

The next morning Anthony and I paid the groundhog a visit. It hissed at me at times when I approached it and was not pleased with the cage's accommodations. 

We threw a sheet over him, lined the SUV with newspapers and headed to the outskirts of a state park. The groundhog was held in incommunicado until we reached our secret destination six miles from our home to set the voracious critter loose.

I placed the trap on the ground. I had Anthony on standby with a Bufford Pusser-type bat in his hand just in case the animal turned on me and wanted to pay me back for its apprehension.

I lifted the lid, and after a few seconds of hesitation, the groundhog bolted out of the cage like bullet of gun and headed for cover in the Maine woods.

"Look at 'em go," I said.

It wanted no part of us, but I am surprised it didn't give me the middle figure.

The best part of this adventure was being with my son. We cracked jokes and laughed all the way home.

It was a cool way to have a father-and-son moment and get up close and personal with nature.

I am sure this groundhog wouldn't agree.

Groundhog's lucky day

AUBURN, Maine —  My neighbor and I were forced to take this groundhog out for a long walk.

It would be a one-way ride. The furry critter wasn't coming back. We didn't want the darn thing around the neighborhood. It was bringing down property values. Enraged gardeners were arming themselves with pitchforks, razor-sharp sickles, guns and Sherman tanks.

Don Michael Corleone reacted the same way in "The Godfather," when the family discovered Sal Tessio had become a traitor and was part of a conspiracy to eliminate poor Michael.

Like Tessio, the groundhog was about to disappear from Bennett Street for good. Its fate was sealed after it ravaged my broccoli plants. The animal was responsible for several missing tomato plants in my neighbor's yard. We knew the little scoundrel couldn't resist the fresh broccoli stored in the trap.

I wanted revenge and my pound of flesh.

Well, our neighbor bagged the fat fella.

I looked at the groundhog trapped in my neighbor's cage. It tried to buy itself time,  almost saying,"For old time's sake, Tony."

"Can't do it, groundhog," I coldly said. "Not this time."

Tessio's pleas for mercy were also ignored after the order was given by the Don to eliminate the bushwhacking Sal.

I looked at the nervous hairball in the cage. This animal was responsible for killing off three broccoli plants. It was murder, I tell ya. Those vegetables never had a chance against this animal's sharp teeth. I was damned if I would continue to contribute to this groundhog's vegetarian lifestyle.

It had to pay for the damaged seedlings, and we had to make an example of the hairy pest. If not, all groundhogs might think they could waltz into any backyard for a free meal.

After watching my garden survive six days of torrential rain, I wasn't about to let this scavenger make a meal out of my small farm.

But knocking off this cute, obese SOB was out of the question.

Groundhogs are nervous wrecks. They are always looking over their shoulders for the law. A little bit of noise sends them heading for the hills. These compact fat guys can really move when they are under duress.

Don decided to pack up his trap with the groundhog and relocate it about 10 miles from our neighborhood. It was sort of witness protection program for groundhogs that run amok.

But the location will remain undisclosed because there are some gardeners still seeking revenge.
And I want no part of a vigilante group.

After all, I am a friend to dogs, animals, bugs and groundhogs.

But nobody messes with Dad's Garden! 

Nobody!

Just ask Tessio.