This has been a bad year for the Northern Pocket Gopher (Thomomys talpoides). Perhaps I should rephrase that. It has been a good year for them, and a bad year for me where they are concerned. Last year they pretty much gave us a pass. This year they were everywhere, making their wandering semi-circles of pock-holes all over my front yard, in the garden, everywhere. I've managed to pot a few, from the deck, with a rested scoped rimfire off a bag, but it's inefficient work. They only pop their heads up for a second or two at a time while they are cleaning the loose dirt out of their burrow. And they only do that for a few minutes of the day.
Jack thinks they are fun. He's a digger and loves to throw a spume of sand and dirt behind him. And can he ever dig! It takes him no time at all to dig a tank trap in the yard that I could drop the mower into. I try to discourage that, since he never catches one and also never fills in his holes.
But if he finds a fresh hole he can be shoulder deep in it in about thirty seconds, so I have to watch him pretty carefully. If he ever actually catches one with his excavations I am afraid the fever will be upon him and I can kiss my yard goodbye.
1 comment:
Bull snakes, my friend, bull snakes! 'Course, ya gotta keep Emma away from them.
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