I have withheld telling this story for about six months. The occasion of my reticence is I didn’t know if he would survive the winter.
Smidge. Smidge Garvin. The last of the groundhogs bought to us last season. Too late to join any other g-hogs we were rehabbing, this smaller-than-usual guy had to go it alone. So it was with great trepidation we set him in an outside pen, fully enclosed, with 24” of dirt in it to hibernate in safety.
But what a winter it was! Not a day went by we didn’t stare out at that cage and worry the little guy wouldn’t make it. Then, as Spring began to slowly depose Winter, it seemed to Sabrina that the surface of the dirt in the cage was scuffed. [G-hogs will briefly break hibernation, come into the sunlight, then return to their burrow.] Could it be that he had survived? We put some fresh hay in the cage so he could re-line his burrow. It disappeared. Once the weather broke, we opened his cage, but still, we never saw him.
Then we thought we detected a subtle trail to a nearby raised cage, so we put food out. Still, no sign. Then, one day as Sabrina knelt down to set food and water for him, she felt a brush on her ankle. There was the Smidge-miester! He grabbed a carrot, sat down on Sabrina’s foot, and began a contented munching. She put out a tentative hand to pet him. Ever mindful of the duties a sovereign owes the lower orders, this he permitted. [She had bought him food after all.] For the next few days, all went well; we bought food, he ate, we scratched his ears.]
Then, sometimes he would appear; sometimes not. Had he changed burrows? Yes. We found his new home about ten feet from our front porch under the shelf of a large bay window. Much celebration at the Garvins’ that day; oxen were fattened; brewskies uncorked. [Okay, it was ice tea and a few potato chips, but you get the point.]
One day Sabrina came storming through the house. “The deer are eating my new geraniums off the front porch!” Rascally deer!
Later, I noticed our munchkin cat, Burglar, staring fixedly out the glass storm door. I moved close to see what had so captured her attention. Next to the glass on the outside sat Smidge, studying her. But what was he eating? A stalk of geranium. Oh well, it’s the price you pay.
Lucky Garvin
