A Gopher Fiasco
It was them or me
The first summer here I saw only a few gophers, at a distance. These ones are different than the ones I’d seen in Alberta. The ones here are more colourful and have a sort of speckled coat. They’re a ‘Columbian Ground Squirrel’ whereas the ones that I’ve seen in Alberta were ‘Richardson Ground Squirrels’.
At first, they were cute
They find a high spot, and make a loud squeak across the hills like a beacon, sounding more like a digital beep than an animal. The first summer it was cute and endearing. On my first spring on the mountain, as the snow melted and the world turned green - little gophers emerged from their nests around the yard. Ultra cute, tiny gophers. I stopped and watched them many times, they became accustomed to me being there.
The little gophers quickly grow into adults. In no time I am overrun. Every corner I turn, there’s a commotion in the grass causing me to jump. While I’m milking the goat, two of them in hot pursuit run under the table nearly hitting my leg. Sitting in the shade, the same thing happens repeatedly.
Scat
That’s when I noticed the strange scat where I lock up the animal feed. I have to keep the door open during the day to allow for some airflow, and a critter was taking advantage of that. I watched and waited to see who the scat belonged to - and who was stealing my supplies. From under a sea can, a young gopher appeared and hopped up into MY sea can.
The Nerve!
There’s so much space here for them to do as they please, and they need to steal from MY food stores? This wouldn’t do- I grabbed a pair of leather gloves and took chase. I cornered it and grabbed it, not knowing how a gopher would respond to being grabbed. It squirmed and made gopher faces like I was killing it, but didn’t bite my gloves. I noticed its crazy sharp claws, likely for digging but still surprisingly menacing.
I let the little gopher off with a warning and hoped to be done with the problem. Wishful thinking! The next day, as I sat by myself in the shade I watched a bigger gopher hop into my shipping container. ‘Heck no’, I said to myself and grabbed the gloves. Again, I cornered the gopher and grabbed it.
The SCREAM that the gopher let out was unbelievable. Like their beacon sound, amplified and then amplified again by the fact that I was in a small space. I nearly dropped it as I walked it out of the container. Now I was mad, my ears are sensitive and this little bugger had effectively put an air horn to them. That’s when I realized what the scream was really for.
Angry Gophers
Two steps out of the container I realized I WAS SURROUNDED BY GOPHERS. Angry gophers. No joke, charging at me and lunging with their claws only a couple of feet away. One especially large one that was off to my left will forever be imprinted in my memory. I stood there in shock and horror, holding the screaming gopher in my gloved hands.
Holy Sh*t! I said to myself, flung my captive to the ground and ran to the house. Now I’m more than mad. Now I’m OUTRAGED.
It was them or me - I grabbed the semi-automatic .22. I was surely not going to be taken down by a horde of pushy rodents! I shot a few of the big ones before I calmed down. The others scattered around the yard and disappeared into their holes. I decided to wait to see if the others got the message.
The next day as I stepped out into the yard, a few made their beacon noise alerting the others that I was there. For a few days, they hazed me sounding their alarm at every turn. Around every corner, there’s a commotion as they run away into the grass. Making me jump even higher than before.
The Last Straw
I was cooking dinner when I looked out the window at my largely unsuccessful garden. A couple of sunflowers had succeeded in sprouting and were a foot tall, probably stunted by the climate. As I gazed I saw one sunflower fall to the ground - GOPHER. I put down the spatula, picked up the .22 and leaned out the door. Like in a western movie I hit it first shot, nonchalantly put down the rifle and continued cooking.
I don’t know why the population suddenly burst in my small yard, but they’d become a problem. They were overstepping and invading the space that I’d claimed. Also, they can carry ticks and other bugs into the yard. People even believe that they can carry the plague! I try not to kill small creatures unless if I really have to -but now it became a game. I waited until Curt got back so that we could share in the morbid fun.
The next season the gophers seemed to have spread the word and they haven’t been a problem since. They keep to the outskirts of the yard, only occasionally sounding their beacon. Thankfully, as I’ve always said ‘if I kill something I want to make use of it’ - you know, skin it, and eat it … but I’m not ready to be that ‘bushed’ - just yet.
I have never liked these little creatures. They were the cause of our gorgeous Kings’ demise. He was my grandfather’s logging horse and because of a gopher hole King had to be put down. They have been on my kill list since.