Christmas Gopher Named Blackwell

Gophers are active in my yard at the moment - possibly two, maybe three. The only sure count I have is the one that is NOT active any more...

But even that assessment is open to interpretation.

The new Sherlock Holmes movie was a kick to watch. The illusion surrounding Lord Blackwell's "death" fooled both Holmes and Watson for a while. So maybe this denizen of the underworld also staged his own demise, then came back to life? You see, after I took this trophy picture and left for a few hours, upon my return the gopher had disappeared!

Ah, what elementary factors may we deduce to be at work here? Hmmm, maybe the underground rat ate some narcoleptic roots and was just playing dead, despite the crushed midsection, and just crawled off after being sprung from the trap. Maybe this was a rare flying gopher and it flew away. Maybe one of the numerous "farm cats" my neighbors feed and house snatched up the delectible rodent and retreated elsewhere to enjoy his toothsome repast.

Regardless of the method by which Gopher Blackwell rescusitated or re-ambulated, the lesson is:

Never trust anything that looks like a gopher - dead or alive.

The perfect property

The house and property seemed perfect. The old and small, but very cute, farm-style house was owner-built the year before I was born. I don't know what its original surroundings were like, but the 1/3-acre lot is one of three lots carved out of the back of the block now occupied by a high school. There will never be any neighbors along one side and across the back. The homes on the other side of the street are deeply set back on three-acre lots; some of them have horses, dogs, geese, and/or chickens. All the parcels on this block, within the city limits, are still on water wells and septic systems twenty-two years after annexation to the city. Traffic is fairly light, except for the parade of cars just before school start time on weekday mornings, or when the arterial road to the west is blocked for some reason. As I said, perfect.

The school practice field behind the stadium, and just over my fence, is home only to gophers who come to burrow dirt once in a while. (I don't like fishing much, but I get a kick out of trapping gophers because it's on dry land.) The stadium lights come on when school alums return once a year for Homecoming football and festivities, and once again when most seniors graduate. During school, kids have P.E. classes, and practice football, or play soccer. After school, Pop Warner football and cheerleading moves in for half a year for nightly practice and parental tailgate parties. But, don'cha know, they go home eventually and everything gets quiet again, except...

I call them my noisy neighbors (among other, less savory epithets.)