A plague of groundhogs

My family is afflicted with a hereditary plague of groundhogs. It all started with my grandmother, who let the groundhog in her backyard thrive, despite nibbles in her garden. More recently, my mother told me the tale of the groundhog in her own Virginia backyard. (Just so you know, Tobin is her dog, and Maggie and Joey are my siblings.)

Tobin was out in his yard and suddenly bust into frenzied barking this afternon--So I went down, and there was a young groundhog on top of his fence, up near the back edge! When Tobin saw me, he leapt up more strongly, and almost grabbed its legs!

"Oh! Oh!" I SCREAMED! "Maggie!"--who heard me and came down. I was so-o
excited I could hardly speak-- "Get the hoe! Get Joey! Turn off the (toaster) oven!! Oh! Oh! Oh!"

Good Maggie! Yes, she looked for the hoe, turned off the oven, e-mailed Joey!

Good Joey! He did turn up (though he'd been working) but to him all we had to do was to take Tobin inside. So he went in Tobin's yard and pulled him out, while I kept dancing around on the other side of the fence! Tobin then pulled away from Maggie's holding the leash and tried to attack the groundhog on my side, but we kept him off, and I went with him into the house.

That groundhog did stay on the fence for about an hour, and though I thought of
calling someone to shoot it, I called the CritterGitter man, but luckily--since he'd have charged $30.--he was in Kingsport. I'm glad that groundhog got away--I know it lives under the old yellow house on the other side of the block. I don't want it after my garden, but am glad Tobin is better off in the house.

Joey has had groundhog battles of his own. His small vegetable garden was the full-time buffet for another groundhog, which came out at intervals to munch on pea shoots and anything else young and tender. Unlike the female side of my family, though, Joey won the battle with his groundhog. He baited a live trap near the garden, and waited. The groundhog must have been laughing up its figurative sleeve since it just went right on eating out of the garden, ignoring the trap. But one day...

I had given up (again) and planned to put the trap away this evening. I came out at just the right instant, to confuse the beast, already stressed by the appearance of big piles of dirt, to dodging for the wrong hiding place. It's now enjoying its new home out at the lake, and I'm looking forward to enjoying vegetables.

Luckily, my own groundhog travails have been limited. Following the maternal side of my family's karma, I bought a property chock full of groundhog holes --- you could barely walk through the soon-to-be-garden area with twisting an ankle. But I also acquired a handy, dog-loving husband. When the groundhogs met Mark's deer deterrents and Chesapeake Bay retriever, they split for parts unknown. Maybe I've broken the familial curse?