Chubby Chuck

I’d like to introduce you to Chubby Chuck, a cousin (if I were to venture a guess) to Woodchuck Chuck who you may recall from previous posts. From unexpected audience during my nephew’s setup of the icehouse media center to corpulent connoisseur of the “ice garden,” Chubby Chuck has proven to be both clever and insatiable. Evading our relocation attempts (but ultimately moving on of his/her own accord), this rotund woodchuck reminded me that embracing an abundance approach to holistic gardening can occasionally be a bit challenging.

Beavering Nephew

Why, you might well wonder, am I opening a post about a chubby woodchuck with a section on my beavering nephew. Why not? Maybe a brave foray into metaphor mixology?

Actually this story begins with my nephew, Christoph, doing me a BIG favor one spring ago. He’s a tech wizard with a generous willingness to help his aunt and uncle decipher the ever-evolving landscape of computer-y gadgets. I’d asked him for guidance on Starlinking the icehouse in conjunction with a suitable television that would fit within our antique Chinese armoire. As luck would have it, he not only advised me, he also took up the challenge (and the incumbent work) to transform the plan into reality!

The next thing I knew Christoph was beavering away in the icehouse. After some consultation about the whereabouts out of HDMI cables (and a photograph of a chubby woodchuck that spied on Christoph through the window) I received this photo update from Christoph. (Source: Antique Chinese Armoire Reimagined)

And now you see the connection between beavering nephew and chubby woodchuck.

Ice Garden Buffet

The newest addition to Rosslyn’s landscape in the last couple of years has been the flowerbeds surrounding the icehouse’s sunken courtyard. We refer to the sloped beds on the north and west sides of the cobblestone terrace as Rosslyn’s “ice garden”, an homage to the icehouse’s heritage. This collaboration with Teddi Rogers, creative clumping and layering of diverse white plantings, owes its enchanting arrangement to her creative whimsicality. Thank you, Teddi. And this chubby woodchuck thanks you too!

[Now let’s return to the] snapshot that my nephew Christoph captured at end of day when he witnessed one very well fed varmint snacking in the new “ice garden” that Teddi has been diligently designing and maintaining over the last month.

We are long committed to an abundance philosophy when it comes to gardening and orcharding, but… Wow! When opportunity knocked, this chubby ‘chuck took full advantage.

Thank you, Teddi, for offering up a veritable smorgasbord for these cute, but vexing neighbors. (Source: Terrific Teddi) 

A humane (and well provisioned) Havahart® Live Animal Trap was placed next to the area of the deck under which it was surmised that Chubby Chuck was making his home. We intended to relocate him/her to Rosslyn’s backland where voracious appetite and ornamental garden would be less in conflict.

But after a couple of days, the trap remained empty. So we relocated it. Twice. Nothing.

Concluding that Chubby Chuck has moved on of his/her own volition, we removed the trap and forgot about the hungry visitor.

Chubby Chuck Returns

Perhaps Chubby Chuck *did* move on. Or perhaps he/she just laid low for a while to let the relocation scheme blow over.

A month later, a little after 5pm, as I was walking up to the icehouse, I noticed movement on the lawn just north of the icehouse. I wasn’t wearing my glasses, so distant objects — even an extremely well fed varmint — get a little blurry. I walked closer. Yes, the woodchuck was back. I took the first photograph in this post from a fairly good distance once I determined that Chubby Chuck was back at it. Can you see him/her in that first photograph?

The second image, taken once I’d walked a little closer, makes it easier to identify Chubby Chuck gorging on wild clover that is a not insignificant part of Rosslyn’s lawn. At this proximity I figured the woodchuck would get startled and hide. But no. He/she checked me out a couple of times as I slowly approached, but no real concern. Head up, look at me, head down, munch away. Repeat.

Only once I was within about 10-12′ of Chubby Chuck did the decision to high-speed waddle off win out over the tantalizing temptation of fresh clover. And sure enough, the rotund woodchuck hid under the deck at exactly the same point of entry where we’d set up the first trap.

But as luck would have it, I haven’t witnessed Chubby Chuck again. Perhaps too close a call for comfort? Or perhaps by that point all of the tastiest free food was coming out of the garden!