The Horror. The Horror.

At first I didn’t recognize the approaching vehicle was that of our good neighbors. I was headed into town, and they, I presume, coming home from the weekly Sunday brunch. Their car is relatively new, but I know the make, model and color well enough to know that it is theirs when I see it. I was preoccupied, and, as it just so happened, they were part of the little scenario I was constructing in my head. And to fulfill the part they would play, I phoned them when I was stationary. The wife, S, answered.

“Sorry I didn’t recognize your car. I was deep in thought.”

“I didn’t notice you either. K gave a little wave and I asked him who he was waving at.”

“I was thinking of calling you anyway because the BAD NEIGHBORS HAVE GOPHER MOUNDS IN THEIR YARD!”

She laughed, “I know!” As the GNs’ property backs up onto the north side of the OCD couple, they have a good view. I had seen the desecration from the road as I drove by.

“Pity the poor gopher.” In the six years we have been here, I have never seen a gopher or mole mound on their property, and I assume for good reason. In that they mow with a heavy tractor at least once a week from February to November, regardless of weather, theirs has got to be the most compacted soil in the county. “Not only for the carnage that will undoubtedly ensue, but for that rodent’s front paws. Can you imagine how difficult it must have been for it to penetrate the surface?”

Again, she laughed. “The traps are still set so I don’t think they’ve caught it yet.”

“If he doesn’t skin it and hang the hide on his work shed, he’ll probably throw it over into our yard, assuming that the interloper came from us.” I have been negligent this year and both the gophers and moles have had their way on our property. I say I did it for the owls. In actuality, I am waiting for the rains to come and stay, for I have a plan.

Stay tuned.