We’re engaged in pitched battle with a double invasion — raccoons and gophers. Discovered last weekend that the roof of our metal shed was blanketed in raccoon crap, though we have garden hose fights with them a couple times a week now.
As for the gophers, we heard recently that, as vegetarians, they hate the smell of meat, as well as that of feces. So stuffed cat poop and old hamburger into some of their holes. The technique has been amazingly effective (more so than the vibrating gopher stakes we’ve traditionally used), but the neighbors look at us funny. And we’re still seeing some new evidence of their presence. I had thought Amy felt squeamish about the idea of killing them, but that “delicate flower” of mine is full of surprises. From an email I got from her yesterday:
I saw the ground moving in the backyard today, something pulling on the grass from down below. Gophers. First, I clobbered the thing with shovel when the ground moved, but it came up again in a new spot, so the second time, I stabbed it with a pitchfork, and the pitchfork went right into the ground! I think I may have killed it. A very Bill Murray moment for me, minus the explosives.
Maybe nuclear deterrents aren’t off the list after all.
6 Replies to “Why I Love My Wife, #311”
We’re having mole problems here in Redmond. Tunnels, mounds, etc.
To great effect, we’re using Uncle Ian’s Mole Repellent. A grainy reddish powder that you liberally apply everywhere the buggers seem to be. Stuff it in runs, holes, etc.
What is it?
98% dried blood and ground bone. 2% cayenne pepper.
“Here is the blood of your kin – now GO AWAY!”
Have you tried moth balls in the holes?
Jim – I guess the product name is better than “Bile in a Box.” Or is it? Sounds great.
Sean – No, but we’ve also tried ammonia-soaked rags, which is probably similar from the perspective of Vermin Supreme. Hard to tell which is most effective, since we’re trying all three at once.
My bedridden grandmother was once afflicted with with a plague of squirrels that set up family in her attic. At one point she had ‘a man’ come over and shoot a couple with a .22 rifle. To show them she meant business she then had her maid skin, clean and fry one of them up and she ate it while cursing them from her window. Only in the south….
/me googles raccoon recipes…
You don’t wanna do that, ‘coon is NASTY. Now squirrel – that’s some good eatin’ :)
(Got a good laugh out of that story about your wife and the pitchfork. Didn’t know you were married to Red Sonja ;)