Ahhhhh hates that varmint

I am beset by all manner of rodentia. Meeces. Wabbits. Squirrels. Chipmunks. And now, groundhog. Varmint-sized groundhog. Woodchuck. A burrowing, fly-drawing, smelly groundhog. Regular readers of AkronDave (both of them) have seen what happens to critters that think they see an easy mark at my humble abode.

I saw the groundhog in question (or a close relative) in my backyard a week or so ago, and thought, boy, I’d hate to have that thing move in to my yard. Then we found a big ol’ hole in the ground right by the foundation of my house. And the smell. Varmint poo. And to think we were blaming a neighborhood cat. Then I acquired visual confirmation that a VarmintCong-type groundhog had taken up residence in my yard (he poked his fuzzy head out of the hole before he spotted my shadow).

As such, I have applied for and granted myself License to Kill VarmintCong.

And that's all she wrote.

Already, my plans are taking shape. The varmint has taken the bait. Now we wait to see if it’s enough to do it in. If not, I have a slightly more radical approach. Not Carl Spackler’s blow-the-joint-to-Kingdom-Come spectacle, but it does involve some manner of pyrotechnics – namely a poison smoke bomb, courtesy of your favorite Lowe’sDepot. The Acme Varmint Bomb, in Warner Bros cartoonspeak.

That’s probably more effective than Yosemite Sam’s wooden mallet:

Goodnight, varmint. (Click to play video)

You have to play the video for a few minutes to get to the scene pictured above.  Definitely worth the wait.

If those PETA nutjobs get their panties in a bunch, they’re welcome to come adopt the groundhog and give it a new home – far, far from here.

But they had better hurry: I just sprinkled some more bait in the Varmint hole.

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