Every Groundhog Day Punxsutawney Phil comes out of his hole to find out if he can see his shadow. Although widely known as a harbinger of spring, I can’t help but shudder at the thought of what damage these critters can do to a vegetable garden. In my neck of the woods they’re known as woodchucks and they’re not welcome on my property. They love to eat your tender young vegetable plants just as they’re getting started.

I’ve come to realize that a good dog is the best deterrent for woodchucks, and since we usually have a dog around, I haven’t had a big problem with these oversized rodents. In fact, I never gave it much thought until the first summer we didn’t have a dog. I also gained a much deeper appreciation for our recently deceased Spike.

A stray Doberman mix, Spike was the first non-hunting dog we ever had and I was under the misconception that he was perfectly worthless other than as a pet. He was totally gun shy and didn’t even know how to swim. However, he was a great companion and we missed him terribly. We decided not to get another dog right away and that’s when I found out that Spike had also been very effective at keeping woodchucks away.

It didn’t take long for the word to get out in the local woodchuck community that my sumptuous vegetable garden was left unprotected. Not only were they helping themselves to my vegetables, they were getting quite brazen about it. I was out there one bright sunny afternoon doing some weed patrol when one of the cheeky little critters showed up! That’s when I started packing heat. 

Since my garden is about 100 yards away from my house, I just got into the habit of taking a firearm with me every time I went out there. I’m no crackshot, but I do have a carry permit and go hunting, so I do know how to use a gun. It was just a matter of time before “Chucky” showed up to meet his demise.

I decided one day that it was time to mow the lawn. This takes the better part of an afternoon on a riding mower, and at the last minute, I remembered to pack a sidearm. Now most people don’t carry a 22 pistol while they’re mowing the lawn, and the thought of a middle aged woman doing it may seem a bit eccentric. However, I was mowing along out by the garden, when who should show up but the infamous “Chucky”.

This was my chance! I pulled my pistol from its holster and leapt from the mower, chasing the woodchuck through the corn patch. I was halfway across the garden when I heard a loud KER-POW! I know it wasn’t me who fired the shot, so I instinctively ducked, thinking the little varmint was firing at me! Yikes! The noise also startled Chucky causing him to stop in his tracks just long enough for me to take aim and fire. Since he promptly scampered off into the woods, I don’t know if I even hit him. Rats! But who fired the first shot?

Well, the “shot” I heard came from the lawn mower. There’s a kill-switch in the seat that shuts off the motor if you get off and leave it running and my mower tends to backfire when it’s shut off that quickly. In my excitement, I guess I forgot about that. Of course, there wasn’t a soul around to witness all this, but the pictures conjured up each time I recount the story are hilarious. And what ever became of Chucky? Either I did manage to hit him or perhaps I just scared him to death. Whatever the reason, he hasn’t been back since and we now have another dog as our resident woodchuck nemesis. Fittingly, his name is Caliber.