They’re looking for a new groundhog in Wiarton, Ontario, Canada, in the wake of the tragic death of the latest in a long line of spring-predicting Willies.
I might just have the guy for them – if I can only catch him.
On Tuesday, at lunch time, I was startled, while peering out my kitchen window, to lay my eyes on a big, fat brown creature so familiar to me from my days growing up on the farm. I don’t remember ever seeing a groundhog so large and round, however; this guy’s found himself a motherlode of food somewhere.
I watched in amazement as the giant rodent made his way across my yard and disappeared behind the shed, munching on grass as he went. I slipped out and shut the gate to hopefully keep him in the yard so the kids could see him later.
At suppertime, I was telling the family about the sighting and looked out the window to show them where he had been. Lo and behold, he was there again, chewing away as though he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
My neighbour keeps telling me stories about how coyotes have been sneaking into Stratford at night and snatching cats and other small animals roving free. Recently, he said they’ve been spotted out near the city dump. I don’t know if what he says is exactly accurate, though I’m inclined to think he might be right. It is true that wildlife that had long ago been chased out of the area by people are making a return, for whatever reasons. A bear was found wandering around the city of Kitchener-Waterloo not long ago, for example.
Wolves and crosses between wolves and dogs and coyotes and dogs have been spotted from time to time in the county surrounding Stratford. The (screamingly ugly) turkey vulture returned 10 years ago and is now increasing in population at such a rate as to be considered a nuisance. Years ago, a rattlesnake (non-poisonous, if I recall) was found near the village of Brodhagen and I once heard a pretty convincing story about bobcats living in a bush near Prospect Hill about 20 miles from me. The man who told me this tale said the animals created noises at night that sounded like babies crying, causing the hair on the back of the necks of the farmers who heard them to stand straight up.
My backyard in the east end of town, by no means in the wilderness, has so far seen rabbits hopping around almost every year along with annual visits from Canada geese. A raccoon knocked over our garbage a while back and now a groundhog shows up. Cats of every description have wandered in and out, hanging around our composters like late night partiers at a drive-through window and the odd dog lumbers through.
Sometimes late at night I wander back with another smelly pail-full contribution to those same composters at the back of the lot. Though it’s dark, I can find my way easily having lived here for two decades. Now I’m starting to re-think the practice, wondering what sorts of creatures I might stumble over on my way.
Groundhogs were not our friends on the farm and many of the pesky creatures joined Willie in the great beyond in our attempt to prevent damage to our machinery from the groundhog holes our wheels would fall into throughout the fields. The irony is, through all those years on the farm, I never saw even one groundhog wandering around on our lawns near the house. And rarely, if ever, did we see rabbits or wild geese. Raccoons sometimes showed up at the barn but not the house.
I don’t know if our current menagerie is attracted by the fact we use no chemicals on our property (no big political statement, just haven’t gotten around to it, plus our kids play in the grass), but something’s going on.
If I meet a coyote by my composter one of these dark nights, you’ll probably be able to hear me screaming like a bobcat (or crying like a baby). I just hope my neighbour’s there to save me.
Generous soul that I am, I am willing to donate my groundhog, now named Stratford Sammy, to the good people of Wiarton. No charge, unless the town has a budget, in which case, $500, which, according to my research, is a real bargain.
©2006 Jim Hagarty
