the safe-zone, 150 yards from the house. One fat

the safe-zone, 150 yards from the house. One fat hulk sat on top of a rock and looked at a new impatiens on the verandah from afar. It stayed away from us, and we stayed away from it.

Then more trouble started. We had beaten the first battalions but reinforcements moved in. One by one the closed entrances to the smoked-out holes were opened. At first it would be a little opening then enlarged, and then scratch marks and other signs to show the hole was reoccupied. Apparently woodchucks much prefer to take over an old burrow instead of digging a new one. They might do good by excavating hardpan soil, but only when there is no other choice.

From the military point of view, I had to stem the counterattack. Somehow I had to seal off the holes. I knew that ammonia would probably attract them, and liquid bleach would be no better. A 15-pound fieldstone could be moved during the night, and if that happened to be too heavy, the woodchuck would make a new entrance by the side of the stone to get in.

It was Julia who came up with the secret weapon. She suggested that I empty the cat’s litter box over the entrance of the old smoked-out holes. Woodchucks don’t mind the smell of ammonia, bleach, smoke bombs, or even their own pungent odor, but would they take to used kitty litter?

I am please to say they did indeed take offense. Woodchucks, at least the breed that has been trying to take over our farm, do not wish to smell a cat. The ’chucks now understand the meaning of the 150-yard zone, and we have a most convenient place for emptying the cat’s box.

I am not saying the war is over at Hawkridge, but those woodchucks have suffered a major defeat.

Dr. Gerald Hawkins is a worldreknowned astronomer and author, whose books include Stonehenge Decoded and Beyond Stonehenge. He lives outside Woodville.