Ever since the housing development, on the ridge above my neighborhood blasted and graded their habitat, wildlife has made an unwelcome home here. A plague of gophers that killed bushes and turned lawns into pock-marked battlefields. Had it not been for the drought we suffered for several years, killing lawns and drying up trees and bushes, I think the gophers would have gained control. My next-door neighbor’s last-ditch effort truly was a trench. Not that I always had less trouble. Years ago, as I was just getting started with a much more gopher-unfriendly yard, we had a cat, Felix, who routinely deposited a trophy gopher on our doorstep most mornings.
One night, Dexter discovered a gopher by the curb – he must have just come out of his burrow as the dirt was still piled up between the car tire and the curb. I let him scurry to the opposite side of the street. Dexter already had a chew-toy. On our walks, Dexter would find a gopher still burrowing away ( the moist dirt still piled at the entrance of the burrow indicated the critter was near) and in a second paws were flying. He eventually lost interest in searching for gophers. This morning’s walk tells me he still has the itch.