I had a little surprise as I was cleaning the floor in our bedroom yesterday. The window shade was up, the sky was a dreary shade of gray, the cows were moving past the house, I paused for a moment to watch the cows (boy were they acting goofy!) and I happened to see some fresh mounds of dirt. Mounds of dirt equal one of two things, gofers or moles. I hate them both. Closer inspection confirmed that it was a gofer mound.
I stood there for a moment and silently cursed the rodent, wondering how long it had been doing its dirty deed; there where additional mounds in a nice neat row to the right of this mound.
He'd been as busy as his oversized cuz the beaver. Grrr.
Just as I was about to turn away and get back to the business of cleaning the floor, I saw the earth move. The dang gofer was still at work.
I was oh so tempted to grab one of Hank's shotguns/rifles/handguns and blow the vermin out of its hole, the only thing stopping me was that I don't know where Hank keeps the ammo (don't let any nefarious individuals know this, I might have a problem should one break in). And don't go gettin' all 'oh but it's so cute' on me. Between him and his other cuz the mole, I have an underground Interstate system that has made my backyard a dangerous place to tread.
On the way home from work on Friday, I heard a commercial for a local exterminator that guarantees to get rid of moles and gofers (Karma?). I momentarily thought about looking up the phone number yesterday, until the closing scene of Caddyshack started playing in my mind. I need my Addie back, she'd fix that gofer. Any suggestions? I'm open to anything, short of a Bill Murray exterminator.