How Much Wood SHOULD a Woodchuck Chuck? or Can you say VEGETARIAN?

A common and abundant marmot here in the Finger Lakes is the woodchuck, a.k.a. the groundhog.  You see them burrowing under sheds and barns, poking around in the parks, and smashed beyond recognition on the highways. (How unfortunate when that happens on the first day out from hibernation!) They also like to live under big, old, front porches.

Our first year in the house, we gave permission to an Amish boy down the road to rid our property of the pests, and for a few weeks we would see him hanging around after chores. It was a rather surprising event when my in-laws were visiting. When my brother-in-law looked up from his dinner and said, "Uh, there's a guy in your front yard with a straw hat and he's carrying a gun?" and my response was "Oh, that's just Henry!" I realized how much our lives have been changed. I was willing to have someone do the dirty deed for me, and I wanted to feel okay about it. Us or them, right? I live in the country, and this is what we do. Top of the food chain, and all that?

Prolific breeders, no matter how heavily they are hunted, their numbers sustain. For the farmers who still plow with draft horses, the risk of broken legs or ankles is not acceptable, and I respect that. I've seen Elam become so frustrated that he filled one of the holes with manure. Not effective management, mind you, but satisfying nonetheless.

Our second summer in the house, Kevin started rebuilding the porch. The mama-chuck who lived under it delivered a litter of 6 babies and the barn-dwelling mama had 5. We were overrun. If you have never seen a baby woodchuck, know that baby woodchucks are cute.  I mean, really cute in a kitten kind of way. Jake the dog managed to grab 2--and I felt awful about it--but the rest were free to roam the property, even running in very close to Kevin, who was under the porch with saws, hammers, and drills. Each day these babies would venture a few feet further out into the front yard. They feared nothing. 

Lately, I've had a front and center view of the critter through my kitchen window while washing dishes. Sitting up on its hind legs, it will nimbly pull the young plants and shrubs to mouth level and munch. This year they seem to like the "chicks & hens," pulling them out by the root, holding the dirt ball and eating. They also love tulip bulbs. First they eat the green leaves, then they come back and dig up the bulb. They decimated a small patch of crocuses which were just starting to show some color. The nerve. What a nuisance. We've got to do something!

No more hired guns, though, just humane traps set by our local pest-management service. Seeing the little furry red-bellied beasts up close, feeding from the tenderest spring growth, their black noses touching in groundhog greeting, we honor their over-breeding, their insatiable but gastronomically upperclass appetites, and their spunk. Once again, I'm conflicted. So I'll save a woodchuck. But just one.

Joe, the Vegetarian Kitten

I just made an appointment at the vet for our new kittens, Pip and Joe. I've been watching them obsessively, noting their habits and quirks. Their new favorite thing is to climb up into the car wheel wells, then giving our guests a fright when they jump out and flee. I can almost hear them say "boo!"

Pip, in a flash of gray stripes, has been snatching moles and mice from our adult cat Squatter, who, by the way, is getting bigger by the day. It's impossible to feed Squatter separately from the kittens, and so by way of one very large bowl, she's been getting high-calorie kitten food along with her regular chow. 

Joe, however, is clueless about the joys of mousing or eating mice. He follows behind Pip, sniffing around the area where the poor helpless rodent met its fate, but makes no other effort towards hunting. Frequently I'll hear some snapping of twigs in the garden, or paws pouncing on the porch, and I'll look out to find that he is chewing on stems, or tossing dead flowers about, or munching on bugs. He's also the first at the food dish, eating aggressively with his two front paws and most of his lanky body in the bowl. Pip and Squatter grab what they can from the space that's left.

I think he's a vegetarian (my friend Suzanne would be very happy to hear that), or maybe just a bit "touched." Maybe boy kittens mature more slowly than girl kittens? The females, as the primary food provider for the litter, have to be primed and ready to feed babies. They are a little more serious about life. A little more focused on eating animal nutrients and not fibrous weedy things. Did I say "babies?" Yikes, I think I made that vet appointment just in time!