In the war of Patricia vs. the gophers, the score is 100 to zero in favor of the gophers.
They are the team with the dark furry uniforms. I wear a different outfit every day in hopes they will find one they don’t like and seek shelter elsewhere. No luck so far and I’m running out of clothes.
My efforts to encourage them to vacate my property, without harming them not only failed, but also inadvertently enticed them to stay. “Relax and listen to some music guys,” I mistakenly communicated.
Trying to be humane, I hosted a series of concerts on the green for my squatters. In addition to providing my front lawn for the venue, I popped for music to be piped into their underground homes. I had read that the musical beeps, emitted from stakes that go into the ground near the gopher holes, were unpleasant for their little pinned-back ears and would make them move on.
How could I have guessed that my gophers would not only be attracted to the beeps but soothed enough to curl up in their underground cabins and help themselves to appetizers provided by the flora in my rapidly disappearing yard? Flower bulbs with a side of leaves, anyone?
Why did none of my research show that some gophers are drawn to the beeps and consider them a welcome sign? When they weren’t eating the leaves, they used them as blankets. Lulled by the sounds of my “Gopher Getters,” they curled up and went to sleep with full tummies. It would have been fine had they left the next morning for greener pastures. But instead they danced to the rhythm of the beeps, digging new holes and foraging new plants with no idea that the sounds were intended to make them unhappy enough to leave and look for new homes.
Accepting defeat graciously, I sit on the porch swing in the evenings and join my furry friends for the concert.
If you ever want to be a part of a gopher Cavern on the Green, just look for a house with mounds of dirt artistically covering the front lawn. Then, dig a hole, if you can find an empty space, and join the fun.
Unless you’re particularly fond of Iris bulbs you might want to bring your own snacks.
Email patriciabunin@sbcglobal.net. Follow her on X @patriciabunin and Patriciabunin.com
Related Articles
Stepping into the darkness leaves me feeling unsettled
It’s time to vote, and I’m reminded of my mother’s joy at casting her ballot
Dishing the dirt with my daughter about making mud pies
Watching all the lively outdoor activity from the kitchen porch
A rose pressed into a book of love poems inspires a new set of memories