Woodchucks AKA marmots or, more commonly around here, "ground hogs" just
know when you're packing a shootin' iron. They present a fat, sassy profile
when you're unarmed, but become suspicious when you're packing, darting
into bushes, behind trees, into burrows.
The east property line is hog heaven with a dozen mulberry trees, a dozen
black cherry trees, and a barbed wire fence that allows them to build a
burrow link-up on each side of the wire. The damn burrows cause stuck
tractor tires and turned ankles. Smoke bombs are useless and the hogs
actually attack and destroy those battery-powered noisemakers that are
supposed to repel burrowing creatures. I won't use Golden Malrin poison
because it's attractive to pets also. Next to Eric Holder and Nancy Pelosi,
I hate hogs more than anybody.
But this one fine day ma and pa hog were doing the dirty need on the lawn
not 15 ft. away from this window. I was able to walk right up to them,
armed!!!! POW said the left barrel and the old man flipped off his mount.
BLAM said the right barrel and ma hog went to her reward. Romantic justice
to boot because this happened to be Valentine's Day. That particular year
was good with 10 confirmed kills. Some years I don't get any. Well, let's
see what shakes out this year.