Chipmunks occupy a unique place in the rodent world, distinguishing themselves from their less charming cousins. Mice are vermin. They shit in your cupboards and eat your wasabi peas. Over the years we’ve tried many ways to control them: Cats (effective, but messy), live traps (sounds like a good idea, but I’m not sure that relocated mice live out the idyllic life you imagine), snap traps (the rip-off-the-band-aid solution to which you become quickly inured.) Laura, cruelly, prefers any of the above options to my laissez-faire approach which results in mice walking brazenly across the kitchen floor pushing a tub of Jif.
I did chortle at this but implanted deep in this gardener's memory, in the area where grudges are held, is the unforgiven sin of these mid-range rodents digging up and destroying 27 of my prized Jan Van Graaff lilies one summer during a dry spell. They were after the moisture in the bulbs. I have learned to put out saucers of water for them in periods of no rain, but I most resolutely will not feed them to encourage them. We suspect they have an underground city under our garage plinth, so if the entire double garage suddenly disappears into a sinkhole one day, we'll be moving to the trap-and-splat modus operandi.
I did chortle at this but implanted deep in this gardener's memory, in the area where grudges are held, is the unforgiven sin of these mid-range rodents digging up and destroying 27 of my prized Jan Van Graaff lilies one summer during a dry spell. They were after the moisture in the bulbs. I have learned to put out saucers of water for them in periods of no rain, but I most resolutely will not feed them to encourage them. We suspect they have an underground city under our garage plinth, so if the entire double garage suddenly disappears into a sinkhole one day, we'll be moving to the trap-and-splat modus operandi.
Thanks for the late afternoon chuckle. Great entry!