Great White Hunter

[so lucky]

There's been this mole really playing havoc in my chicken yard. Every time I go out there, there's a new run. Not horrible but sometimes I have to stomp runs down before I can open or close the gate. Well, today, I saw the ground heaving when I went to let the girls out to roam. Got my DH and two shovels, and we were able to dig him out and "dispose" of him. Yea! I don't even like to kill bugs, but moles are one critter I don't mind doing away with.
Now, tomorrow I will find out if he was a loner, or had Ma and the little ones following behind him...

On another note, I saw once again how rich that soil is in the chicken yard. I think it's gonna go in my garden this spring. Just have to find something to fill in the pen with.

 

[Smart Red]

Great job, Bwana! Those devils are hard to catch. Did the chickens enjoy him? Yes, Chicken yards are a great place for gardens, just as gardens are a great place for chickens to run (when the produce is out).

 

[thistlebloom]

It's always so satisfying to get pests taken out. Now you can file a notch on your shovel!

I dig my run out in the fall, and then load it up with leaves, and straw and somehow it always has another 4 to 6 inches to dig out again the next fall.

 

[so lucky]

Curses! Another big mound right in the middle of the chicken yard this morning. Like the partner of the deceased mole is giving me the finger! (do moles have fingers?)
Rain is forecast for the whole day, but maybe tomorrow I can get the little bugger. (Yes, I'm too much of a pansy to want to stand out in the rain and watch for mole activity)

 

[Smart Red]

Great White Hunter was the name I sometimes called DH when we were dating. All the family had stories of his hunting exploits whether it was traipsing through miles of woods seeking the illusive red squirrel, rabbit, pheasant or deer, spearing carp in the back yard or backpacking through Canada in search of the perfect fishing lake. It was reassuring knowing that if we wed, I'd never go hungry.

Then we married.

In all of the first 20 years and most of the second he never picked up a gun or fishing pole. I kept encouraging him to take a weekend off to go hunting or fishing, but he never wanted to go. Until a coon got into the chicken coop. I woke DH up at midnight with the order/request to "go shoot that coon". He got up, spent a hour cleaning and preparing his unused .22 before he was able to go out to the coop. While I held a flashlight, DH took one shot and went back to bed -- the coon was dead and the rifle was back hidden again and unused until DS was old enough to learn shooting.

No, I've never gone hungry, but if the local grocery store shuts down . . . . It will be preserved veggies for every meal.

 

[so lucky]

that is so funny, Red! And you never found out why he didn't want to go hunting/fishing any more? Maybe he just had a better way to spend his time, after he met you!

 

[Smart Red]

that is so funny, Red! And you never found out why he didn't want to go hunting/fishing any more? Maybe he just had a better way to spend his time, after he met you!

Never really got a good answer. Something like "I got all that out of my system". Here I was expecting cheap meat sources and he didn't do any of that. How could someone who fished every day of his live (not much of an exaggeration as he grew up right on the river's edge) not want to fish?

I think it came down to some bad personal experience that he wanted to avoid in the future. Or wanted to avoid with me. I rather like your answer, though, @so lucky. We found lots of ways to spend his time.