Well, that sheriff's office had no answers for him and they finally transferred him to the state police department who transferred him to AZ Fish and Game department who told him that he cannot shoot the gophers with his bb gun without a permit. But, if he wanted to, like, shoot a chicken that we owned, he could legally do that. Do you wanna know what I think? I think we own those stinkin' gophers since they were all over our property when we bought the house and the contract said the property was being sold "as is". So I believe it would be safe to assume that we purchased those gophers and they are ours. Can I get an Amen?
Yesterday, we had our yard graded and leveled out. And many of those gopher holes seemed to be obliterated. It was lovely to look out upon our expanse of dirt and see no holes nor dirt piles that are indicative of the wild gopher.
Alas, this very morning as I was outside spraying down the dirt, (because the grader man told me to do so, plus I swept my house earlier this morning, and soon after, a fine layer of that silly dirt had settled upon it. This just will not do. So, spray the dust I must. An acre is a lot to spray with a little garden hose I found out.) I found that those gophers had emerged from the dust. So I sprayed as much water as I could down their holes. It did no good.
So the husband is determined to get that hunting permit. And once he has it in his hot, and I mean HAWT little hands, (at this point, can you commence reading the following words with a backwoods southern accent?) he's gonna sit himself on the back porch with a corncob pipe tucked in his mouth, and pick off them rascally varmints one by one. (Conclude backwoods southern accent) (no offense to backwoods southerners.)
And he may or may not have told me that since he has to get a hunting permit, he may or may not use a gun with a little more power than that bb gun he was originally planning to use.
We have made him vow that he will not shoot the bunnies. Cause we like the bunnies. They make us smile.
But then, what do you know? This evening a big ole black beetle dug its way out of the dusty dirt. And little son marched right on up to it as we were all studying it- oldest daughter a respectable (and safe) 10 feet away. And I told little son to pick it up- and what do you think he did? That miniature version of the husband stepped right on that beetle. Twice. And it was crunchy. And big. No hunting permit whatsoever.
I think he could teach the husband a thing or two.
Chill PETA people, ok? With all due respect.