![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Over the Hedge
Jul. 3rd, 2007 01:54 pmOur across-the-street neighbors are a sweet couple who've been there about a year. We see them out front quite often while we're doing our respective yardwork, but I've only seen their back yard once or twice since they moved in. It's fairly wide open with a concrete patio, which makes for fun outdoor times, and not just for Jay, Renee and their guests.
They've had a woodchuck living under that patio for months now.
We got no crowds here in February to see if Williamsville Wally would see his shadow or not. (Early on, I suggested they just leave a DVD of Groundhog Day on infinite replay to see if they could bore him out of the back yard.) It's all been pretty live-and-let-live back there, but at a recent party thrown in the back yard, their uninvited guest, unfazed by all the company, came out of his burrow and just wandered around the grounds, acting like he owned the place.
Make that "she," actually, because apparently there were signs of little baby woodchuckery spotted back there.
The kids (good God, I'm referring to 30-year-olds as "kids") are both at work today, but another of our at-home neighbors spotted the Animal Control officer coming back from behind Jay and Renee's with a nicely stuffed humane trap.
"Oh, good, you caught her," Betty said. "Did you find the babies?"
"Erm, no, not unless groundhogs and raccoons are running a joint daycare."
SoWally Wilma remains at large, but Rocky Raccoon's checked out of his room.
And let's not even talk about the skunk who let off a major stinkbomb in the yard at this end of our house last night. Both dogs were inside, blessedly. I'd been watching the Met game before bed, and made some noises about falling asleep out there if the stench hadn't dispersed, but after Glavine walked the bases loaded to get to the opposing pitcher (who promptly doubled down the first base line), I announced, "I'm going to bed, dear. The Mets are stinking more than that end of the house is."
They've had a woodchuck living under that patio for months now.
We got no crowds here in February to see if Williamsville Wally would see his shadow or not. (Early on, I suggested they just leave a DVD of Groundhog Day on infinite replay to see if they could bore him out of the back yard.) It's all been pretty live-and-let-live back there, but at a recent party thrown in the back yard, their uninvited guest, unfazed by all the company, came out of his burrow and just wandered around the grounds, acting like he owned the place.
Make that "she," actually, because apparently there were signs of little baby woodchuckery spotted back there.
The kids (good God, I'm referring to 30-year-olds as "kids") are both at work today, but another of our at-home neighbors spotted the Animal Control officer coming back from behind Jay and Renee's with a nicely stuffed humane trap.
"Oh, good, you caught her," Betty said. "Did you find the babies?"
"Erm, no, not unless groundhogs and raccoons are running a joint daycare."
So
And let's not even talk about the skunk who let off a major stinkbomb in the yard at this end of our house last night. Both dogs were inside, blessedly. I'd been watching the Met game before bed, and made some noises about falling asleep out there if the stench hadn't dispersed, but after Glavine walked the bases loaded to get to the opposing pitcher (who promptly doubled down the first base line), I announced, "I'm going to bed, dear. The Mets are stinking more than that end of the house is."