Garden Pests

Writing last week about our attempts to trap the voracious squirrel who dines on my tulips reminded me of another "trapping" adventure. We've had two groundhogs happily living under our deck for several years now. They don't seem to have any intention of moving because the rent is good and the grocery store, a.k.a. the garden, is right next to the deck. I wouldn't mind sharing if they'd take a thing or two and feast, but they sample everything within reach. My husband was doing a lot of traveling last summer, so he didn't have time to plant anything. Maybe they grumble about the lack of variety, but they're not annoyed enough to leave. My husband tried to trap them with the same trap that hasn't worked for the squirrel. We read that cantaloupe was irresistible to a groundhog, so he baited the trap with some nice, juicy chunks and ... you guessed it, the groundhog got it out without springing the trap. Groundhogs aren't small and limber like a squirrel, so I'm not sure how either one could do it. Is the squirrel tutoring them? Maybe the squirrel gets it out for them just to make us crazy. My husband kept adjusting the sensitivity of the trap door to no avail. Until one morning we found something in the trap. It had been a busy day and he'd forgotten to close it that night as you are supposed to do, because if you don't you might catch something you weren't planning on. A skunk, for example. I was about as close to hysterical as I'd ever been. I have absolutely no experience with skunks, never having had a dog come home after an altercation with one, or been anywhere near an area with an active sprayer. But I have gagged occasionally during a drive, when a truly horrible smell has made its way into the car. The first time it happened I had no idea what I was smelling, until my husband enlightened me. Awful. The idea that the entire neighborhood would smell like that indefinitely was horrifying. Not to mention doubting whether I'd ever be able to share living quarters with my husband again. After checking on-line for any brilliant ideas, my husband made himself a hazmat suit from two contractor-weight trash bags, very gently took the trap (don't trip, don't trip, don't trip) to the trailer on the back of the car, and slowly drove away. An hour later he returned, mission accomplished. He'd let the skunk go in a large wooded area on the far side of a highway. No spraying occurred. I couldn't live through that again. And we're tired of the battle. We're thinking of creating a two-tiered garden, planting enough on the ground level to keep the groundhogs happy, and plants for the human residents higher than a chubby, lazy groundhog can reach.