Drowning Chipmunks

First we had skunks. We tried living with them. Except for occasionally running into one in our barn and mistaking it for Robin, our long-haired cat, things were OK. We’d hear them under my office and I could smell the musky smell of the animals, but nothing noxious. Then, one Thanksgiving, a skunk sprayed under the office, rendering it uninhabitable for three days.

So we got the wildlife guy. He fenced either side of the office with hardware wire. They dug under it. We capitulated and he disposed of 13 skunks at a cost of $40 per skunk. But we were skunk-free and grateful.

The voles ran tunnels under the snow a couple of years later, but without damage. The population collapsed after a year or so and we haven’t seen any of them lately. A friend trapped three woodchucks, ugly animals with giant buck teeth. Peace reigned.

Last year, both our cats died. We noticed chipmunks here and there, but essential laziness coupled with a tolerant attitude caused us to leave them alone. This year, they ate all our crocus bulbs and dug hole after hole in the garden. According to the web, each litter was 2-8 babies and with 2 litters a year, we had to do something.

But what? Get a cat? Aside from not wanting new pets, it seemed like hiring out our killing, plus cats like to play with their prey. A little too bloodthirsty for me. Poison? Chewing Gum (they are supposed to eat it whereupon it expands in their stomachs and kills them)? The thought of a lot of dead and rotting chipmunks under my house was not appealing and they are supposed to be hoarders, which means they’d take the bait back to their holes where it might sit for a year. Plus, who wants poison bait lying around when you have little kids visiting?

And transporting them did not seem realistic. The idea of catching a chipmunk, driving it 5 miles away and letting it loose, which humanitarian, seemed like it was just shifting the burden onto someone else.

BB Gun? They’re fast and I’m not that good a shot. Besides, the thought of wounded and bloody chipmunks staggering around the yard, leaking entrails and goo was not appealing. Not to mention missing and breaking windows, scratching cars, and probably, losing an eye to a ricochet.

So, now I am in the chipmunk drowning business. We catch them, I place the cage into the small fountain in our side yard and then I dump out the bodies into a plastic bag. This weekend, we caught and killed 8. I take no pleasure in it. In fact, I like it less with each chipmunk. But I don’t see another way to do it.