Tuesday, 31 July 2012

The Gopher Apocalypse Part 3: The Hunter and The Hunted

It's been pretty quiet around here lately - and by quiet I mean the badgers have moved on out to the East side, and most of the gophers have hit up deluxe apartments in the sky . . . until today.

If you missed my previous blogs on this topic, please feel free to catch up by clicking the links below . . .

Today is not so quiet. There are four of the creepy creatures frolicking in my yard without a care in the world. Yes, I know it's only 4 - but still, gotta send those little beasts a message.

It's time to pull out the big guns. Or in my case, the pellet rifle that sounds more like a cap gun with the scope so out you probably can't hit the side of a barn . . . or maybe it's me that can't aim properly. I'm gonna go with it being the scope.

Gopher hunting is not for the faint of heart. Those little suckers are slick I tell you - and they WILL mock you at every turn. If you can't handle the frustration, don't pick up the gun. Thankfully I have three little children running around the house that try my patience at every turn, so I'm used to dealing with frustration - but even I was unprepared for the feelings of inferiority that come along with being beaten by a gopher.

The last time I went out hunting, I got within 8 feet of the hole where a sentinel was chirping out orders to his crew. I'm not sure what kind of trouble a gopher has to get into to be relegated to a sentinel role, but it must be bad. At any rate, I decided right then and there that I was going to take him out.

I carefully raised the gun to my shoulder and spent the next few minutes trying to see him through the scope. Finally I got him in the cross hairs and I took a deep breath then exhaled slowly so as to get my heart rate down - just like in the movies. My trigger finger twitched, pulled back and - pop.  A big puff of dirt flew into the air just behind the gophers head and he just looked at me. 

I repeated this process 20 times - the only time the sucker moved was to turn around and shake his a$$ at me like I was stupid.  I managed to make a pretty good divot in the ground though - so next time he will know I mean business.

Well, time to go dust off my camo pants and load up on ammo . . . on second thought, maybe I'll just add a little more Bailey's to my coffee and let the little buggers die another day. When my husband is home. So I don't have to cry myself to sleep because I'm a horrible hunter.

Yup, Bailey's it is.

Want to add a little sip of Gin & Tonic to your day? Follow me on Twitter:  

No comments:

Post a Comment