Leave It To A Beaver There are just those times in life when you’ll run smack dab into a situation that will leave you wondering what the hey just happened. Last week was one of those days. Seems a beaver had somehow confused my swimming pool and Jacuzzi waterfall for his new home, since that new development over the hill took out his old place. Anyway, normally I love animals of every type. I’m a charter member of Save The Penquins - Eat More Walrus in my town, and proud of it. So this situation calls for a little give and take between me and my newfound adversary. For those of you that don’t keep beavers as house pets, like me for instance, you have no idea how cleaver those rascals are. Anyway, it all started last week when I noticed some unusual ‘carvings’ in the 4x4 posts that support my patio deck. I didn’t know what to make of it at first, thinking who would be carving their initials in my posts at this level off the ground. I know whenever I do that, I like to put them high enough up the post that I can read what I wrote. It’s not that I forget whose initials I carved, I just like to check every now and then to make sure I spelled them right. You can never be too careful, if you get my meaning. Anyway, it dawned on me, since I’m not the one who is the culprit, it must be aliens or maybe Munchkins. Too low to the ground for human marks. But after careful consideration I realized the flaw in my thinking. Munchkins only live near Kansas, and then only in the movies, as well. So that’s two strikes against Munchkins makin those marks. So that leaves me with aliens. I’ve never been one to believe in such nonsense, but here is unmistakable proof, not only are aliens real, they are using the underside of my porch for their clubhouse. Anyway, I called my friend Kernsey over to show her my findings, and she said they looked a lot like beaver marks. Now Kernsey knows a lot more about beavers than I do. Women are pretty smart about beavers, I think it’s in their genes. So now it looks like I might have alien beavers living on my property. Anyway, as the days went by the marks kept getting bigger and bigger, and spread from post to post. So now I’m starting to worry if my house has caught some kind of weird alien beaver rash. On the fourth day I came out on my porch only to find I didn’t have a porch any more, I now owned a big ramp, with handrails. So after I got over the shock of it all, and those nice folks down at the clinic removed the last of those splinters from sliding all the way down to the handrails, it was time for a little damage control. Anyway, those alien beavers had taken my nice posts and had put them in my Jacuzzi right near the waterfall, just to see if I was paying attention. I’m not the brightest candle on the cake, but I spotted this ploy right off the bat. Now my porch posts are clogging the waterfall, and the water level in the Jacuzzi is starting to rise. Kernsey says it’s about time I call in some professional help before things get out of hand. I made a few phone calls and found out from the local pet shop that beavers are native to my area, and aren’t alien after all. That bit of information was quite a relief. I had been having nightmares about being strapped to a table and having alien beavers crawling all over me like you see in those scifi movies, or those other movies, I forget. Anyway, the local Game Warden, Hal Ketchem came out and he looked the situation over. He said it would be best to set a trap for the beaver. So I went down to the ‘Nails n Pails’ and got the largest wash tub I could find. I figured I’d turn it upside down, prop a stick up and when the beaver chewed through the stick, the tub would fall and capture him. Didn’t quite work out that way. The next day I came out and half the handrails were floating in the pool, and that silver tub was movin all around the back yard like a space ship, or something. I was confused for a minute. That guy at the pet shop told me those beavers weren’t aliens. If that’s the case, how’d they learn to drive a space ship? Anyway, I had that rascal trapped and I didn’t want to let him escape before the Game Warden came to take him away. So I got a big heavy rock and put it right on top of that tub. Stopped it dead in its tracks. I could here it whimpering inside that tub. I felt sorry for it, but hey, it didn’t feel sorry for me or my porch. And the GW told me I best catch it before it tangles with any of the local pets. You don’t want Mr. Puddles catchin no alien beaver rash, that’s for sure. Anyway, I called up ol Hal Ketchem, but it seems he changed his tune. My impression was once I caught the critter, he’d be right over to take it off my hands. Now it’s gonna take a while due to a unforeseen case of some deer getting it’s antlers tangled in Mrs. Butinski’s clothes lines, and ruining today’s load of clean whites. We all know how traumatic that can get. Sheesh, I’d say that’s some good eating where I come from, deer meat I mean. Think about it, who ever ate a beaver? I go hunting every season and hardly ever get one. She hangs out some knickers on a line and bags one just like that. Where’s the justice? Anyway, now that all that beaver barking has stopped coming from under the wash tub, I’m thinking I’ll just take care of that critter myself. A quick upside the head with a baseball bat should dispatch it in no time. Lift and swing and POW, problem solved. What could go wrong? So I go get my trusty old Babe Ruth Special and head on out. Now let me just say something right off the bat. ‘Louisville Slugger’. Get it? I read that right off the bat. (It was a joke) Anyway, I get down on my hands and knees and right into the attack position with my bat in the ‘home run’ position. But just as I get ready to lift and swing Kernsey starts hollerin for Old Yeller to come and get it, and darned if that beaver didn’t get hungry right then, too. Now, I was all set to tangle with a napping beaver, but one barking like that is a little too much for my taste. Besides, my adrenaline is about used up, so a good nap will certainly fit the bill right about now. Anyway, I wake up after an hour or so, OK, it was longer than that. It’s not my fault Oprahs’ show was pushed back 45 minutes so that dang Girls Softball extravaganza could turn into the sports event of the year. I renew my resolve to end this standoff so it’s get the bat, and back at I go. Trouble is when I look out I see that crafty beaver has somehow removed that rock and turned over the tub. Who would have guessed I was tangling with ‘Hairy Hoodinee the Alien Beaver’. Anyway, a friend of mine suggested that I turn up the heat in the Jacuzzi to 12, and that might drive the critter away, so that’s what I did. I cleaned up all that chewed up lumber from Hairy’s new water park attraction for homeless beavers, and paid a local contractor to rebuild my deck. Then I had that boiled beaver stuffed and mounted. Now he sits on the mantle right under that dear head. Never imagined mounting and a stuffing a beaver could be so satisfying! I think I’ll have a cigarette. Cletus
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