Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, April 12, 1993 TAG: 9304120274
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A-7 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MONTY S. LEITCH
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
THE VARMINTS!
DESPITE the 3 inches of snow that covered our yard this time last week, it's for sure spring: The groundhogs are back.It could be that they've been roaming the Earth already for some weeks now, but the one that most bothers me - the big, fat one that lives under the barn - he only got around to showing his ugly face about the time last week's snow was clearing up.
About the time the tenderest shoots of new green grass were poking forth out of winter. About the time I, myself, was giving over to the joys of spring fever.
And then, there he was. Back and forth, back and forth. The Groundhog. Pretending like I didn't see him scurrying through my yard.
Oh, I saw him, all right. His fat, bushy tail. His greedy, beady eyes. His squat, grey back. That back that I can never see without imagining a target printed there.
Over and over friends have tried to convince me of the beauty and necessity of groundhogs, of the irrationality of my reaction to them. "But they're so cute!" they tell me. "They don't harm anything." I remain unconvinced.
This is, perhaps, sign of neurosis. Indication of psychosis. I stand, however, unrepentant when it comes to groundhogs. I hate 'em.
Now, you know me. You know I appreciate Nature as much as the next guy. I like little, wild creatures - the pretty birds, the nibbly rabbits, and the lanky deer who'll likely as not nibble the ends off the lilacs before they can even bloom.
In the face of Nature I mostly remain temperate, accepting, occasionally even charitable. One big happy ecosystem.
Groundhogs, however, I do not consider to be a part of Nature that we need.
So, I've been imagining what I could insert into the groundhog's tunnel under the barn that would seriously discourage his further residence there.
This is an entertaining and rewarding diversion. Unfortunately, it ends too often with me reminding myself, "Yes, but you don't really want to burn down the barn, blow it up, or poison the entire backyard atmosphere, do you?"
Weeellll . . . If it would rid the world of groundhogs, I might. Truly, I just might.
Monty S. Leitch is a Roanoke Times & World-News columnist.