{"id":1427,"date":"2022-05-19T11:05:29","date_gmt":"2022-05-19T15:05:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.gloriacrist.com\/blog\/?p=1427"},"modified":"2022-05-19T18:25:55","modified_gmt":"2022-05-19T22:25:55","slug":"whistle-pigs-and-fox-piss","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.gloriacrist.com\/blog\/2022\/05\/whistle-pigs-and-fox-piss\/","title":{"rendered":"Whistle Pigs and Fox Piss."},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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“Don’t mess with me, pork chop. What day is this?”- “Groundhod Day”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As if the sudden and bloody death of his cousin, or sibling, or mother, or father last spring,( thanks to my dog who tossed the creature around like a furry chew toy), was not enough. I looked out the kitchen window two days ago and saw yet another Groundhog standing firmly on it’s hind legs and enjoying my perinials for breakfast. It knew I was looking right at it. It knew<\/em>. And while keeping eye contact with me, it would grab another stalk and chew it down to a nub. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Oh, it’s on. It’s on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And on a day of all days,when life is already tossing life things at me, before 10am. It stood there, eating my damn perinials.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I called over to my dog.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Otto, I said. It’s back! Or, it’s cousin, or sibling, or father or mother. It’s back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Otto knew. He knew<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I opened the back door and Otto took off, certain the furry chew toy would be on for another round of toss. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was faster than we thought and off it went in a flash, perinials trailing. Back underneath the shed it went. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Back to the hardware store I went. Clearly the chicken wire did nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

You need fox piss, he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sorry?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fox piss pellets. You need fox piss to sprinkle around-it keeps those whistle pigs away. Aisle 5.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Whistle pigs?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Groundhogs, woodchucks, works on rabbits too, he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But…..how does someone collect<\/em> fox…piss?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Humanely. Whatever that means.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Said so on the canister. “no foxes were harmed in the collection of this urine”<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I purchased a canister.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Wear gloves and stand down wind when you open the canister, he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I followed his advice as well as the guidelines on the canister. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I carefully opened the canister, gloved up, down wind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There are no words to describe the wretched smell. No words. But sprinkle it I did, and almost vomit I did. For sure, no creature dare venture out beyond the fox piss border and into my perinials now!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And what do I see this morning? What do I see as rain is pouring down watering my perinials in prep for the scorching hot weekend ahead?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hunkered down, way in the back, reaching up every so often to grab another stalk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A whistle pig. Oblivious to the fox piss.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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