|She'll never see me behind this twig. Mr groundhog.|
There is an element of competition about our animals at the lake. My groundhog is prettier than my in-laws' groundhog, which we all agree looks like a well-worn bathmat on legs. As soon as I leave the cottage the doe and her fawns come out and give a display to my husband. I swear she's flirting with him.
|I think I hear something|
But now my father-in-law has gone and trumped us all by seeing the skunk and her babies walking in line through the forest. I thought of camping out all night in the spot where he saw the little critters but brief research on skunk photography will tell you that they don't like camera flashes and I sure don't want to upset her.
|Oh-oh I think I've been spotted|
So as I was tidying up the garden this morning I heard a rustling which I guessed was not just a squirrel. As previously stated I'm a great believer in the RD Lawrence method of tempting animals with slices of bread so seven-grain specimen in hand I coax the little blighter out into the daylight. He's a groundhog or woodchuck as they call them here. A young one with a very pretty coat. I show pictures to my husband. Very cute, he says. My in-laws are less impressed. Oh dear, they say. It doesn't matter how pretty they are, the sight of one has many people round here feeling a sudden itch in their trigger finger. Woodchucks eat your garden.
|Err......constantly alert. A trained hunter|
Our woodchuck on the move:
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