We have a woodchuck living in our neighbor’s backyard. It’s probably an unaccompanied male. It looks young, probably less than a year old. Maybe it was born late last autumn in a litter of one to two others, and is now foraging on its own. Anyway, I have a problem with this woodchuck.
It’s also important to know that I speak with (at) animals rather often. Most animals on the property – we own an acre or so in southern Massachusetts – have names, personalities, little jobs, problems, all made up by me. Our squirrels are all named Nigel, and are all jerks – not politically motivated in their various crimes I suppose, but instead acclimated to a climate of fear and creating a disturbance in equal measure. They eat my strawberries, destroy our jack o’ lanterns every year, and basically flounce around the yard as if they own it.
I do not have a problem with squirrels.
We also have rabbits – three of them, one female I suspect and two males who are endlessly competing for her attention. Sometimes she glares at me when I’ve recently mown the lawn. Other times I find one of the males flopped in the shade of our ground cover. They look at me, but won’t move until I get very close to them. Our rabbits are lazy and overfed. The female had her babies in our backyard which I was over the moon about. They were nestled into a nest of dried grass and fur she made herself. I hope they’re all ok. Rabbits are great, we love rabbits.
I also do not have a problem with rabbits.
I don’t have a problem with the birds nesting in the downspout pipes for our split heating/cooling lines. I have zero problem with the toads who love the windows near the basement, though they don’t like me much. We have foxes, we have hawks and owls and a zillion tiny voles and mice out in the forest. We have peeper frogs. Our home area is a nature preserve and I, a city druid, love it.
Woodchucks, however, are a problem because woodchucks will “throw hands” as the kids put it. I am one of the few people I know of who has lost a fight with a wild animal, and while I am not a particularly prideful man I will admit it was a bit of a blow losing a battle of posturing and fisticuffs to a male rabbit defending his territory. The rabbit jumped, dug vigorously in my direction with both forepaws, and then presented his back to me as if to say “Not only have you lost, but I don’t even care that you’re still here.” To this day I’m not sure what we were fighting about – perhaps the potatoes I’d planted in the ground there – but a second loss cannot be borne.
Recently I saw a woodchuck scramble across the yard, get startled by a stationary rabbit, leap onto its hind legs and, I kid you not, shadow box in a panicky fashion before scrambling further across the yard. The rabbit had the good grace to looks surprised; I did too.
How would one fight a woodchuck if it threw hands? Apparently they do this socially to establish dominance. Can I face my spouse and friends if I lose to a woodchuck – to another wild animal? Would you ever read my books, knowing deep in your soul that I’d lost a fistfight with not only a rabbit, the world’s prey animal, but also to a woodchuck the size of my right foot?
Time will tell. In the meantime please send ninja lessons.
Happy writing,
Adam Brink
