The Gopher Apocalypse Part 2 - Descent into Madness

Monday, June 18. 2012

While getting Zach ready for school, I watch as the gophers confer with one another about how best to take over the property. I shudder . . . and for good measure, I shudder again. I open the window - one looks up at me - chirping and mocking. I close the window and pull the blind. This cannot be happening. They were all supposed to die. Why, WHY, WHY can they JUST.NOT.DIE?

I look out the front window at the three crows on the roof of our shop. My, my, my - now what do we have here? They are feasting . . . feasting on a . . . gopher? YES! I feel positively giddy and grossed out simultaneously!

Mike has gone back to work - so I alone hold the fate of these gophers in my hands. And yesterday, I discovered the secret weapon. A weapon so unexpected . . . so novel . . . it is sure to send these little suckers on their way to gopher heaven in less than a week. There's no gassing here - no shovels, no guns. I have the perfect weapon, and today, I declare WAR!

In this bag lie 57 packages of Bubblelicious gum in an assortment of flavours. I am told that the gophers will try to eat the gum, but as they cannot swallow it, they will suffocate and die. AWESOME.

I proceed to put on rubber gloves and peel the gum wrappers off (you know, so the little suckers don't know this is from me - heh heh heh). 

The kids clamour up on the counter - eager to watch what I am doing (or hoping for a stray bubblegum - not sure which). Soon, we are all salivating.

We must.chew.gum.NOW!

Oh man, this is soooooo going to work.

After unwrapping 250 pieces of gum, we put on our hunting gear (gloves), grab a shovel, and head out to work. 

Mike, being most concerned for my safety, decided to set four traps last night before leaving to work. Hmmmmm . . . thinks I, wonder if we caught anything?

We head to the first hole. In it lies a gopher with its eye pecked out. The kids stare at it wide eyed. I almost pee myself. I want to vomit. I summon up every ounce of courage I have and try to pick it up with the shovel. Well, actually, I dig a huge hole because I'm scared to touch it with the shovel. But I digress. I grab a plastic bag, urge the kids to hold it tightly, close my eyes, scoop up the gopher and quickly deposit it in the plastic bag. Elizabeth says "My knees are shaking". Mine are too. Is this really what hunting is all about?

We proceed to a number of holes and deposit the gum, when we come to a trap. Oh Gawd. There's a gopher in it! I tell Zach to get it out. He looks at me blankly. I squeal as I pick up the trap and try to free its prey. I try and I try and I try to get that freaking gopher out of the trap and you know what?! I did the only thing any sane hunter could do - texted my bestie. She rushed over, plopped the gopher into the bag, and to her credit, didn't tease me once about it.

Feeling sufficiently grossed out, I rush around to the other holes, depositing my precious gum and praying for a speedy death. 

Later that evening, I get a text from my neighbour asking if I put the gum in the holes or beside it. Son of a . . . .

I look outside the window - they are EVERYWHERE - chewing like cows and blowing bubbles. I close the window and pull the blind. This cannot be happening. They were all supposed to die. Why, WHY, WHY can they JUST.NOT.DIE?

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