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ommadawnMy Dad used to grow tomatoes in the garden in the 1970s. There's still a tiny wild part of the yard (that I now call the uPrairie or micro prairie) which marks where the garden was, on the shore of the creek before it was dredged. We grew a lot of tomatoes in that garden and canned many jars of tomatoes each year.
There was a lot of wildlife in the creek (we pronouced it "crick") behind the garden, including a muskrat lodge right next to the garden. There were lots of frogs, turtles, and ducks. Each year the ducks would come up to the house for cracked corn, first as a couple, then with seven or eight ducklings, and soon enough some of the ducklings would be missing a foot and then missing entirely the next day because of the turtles.
There were raccooons, too, and they'd raid the garden. One year, something came along and cut off all the pepper plants in a single row. Left them laying there to die and dry out. So Dad put up a foot or so high chicken wire fence around the garden, and a raccoon trap in the middle of the garden.
One Sunday morning, we looked out there to see a trapped raccoon standing there, with his paw hanging out in front of him, trap hanging there. The raccoon looking around seemingly with an attitude of "what you looking at?"
Dad went out with the .22 rifle (the only actual gun in the house ) and shot the raccoon. I don't remember seeing the actual killing moment.
We wrapped up the raccoon's body and put it in the stand up freezer and dad gave it to one of his coworkers because the guy's son was into taxidermy.
There was a lot of wildlife in the creek (we pronouced it "crick") behind the garden, including a muskrat lodge right next to the garden. There were lots of frogs, turtles, and ducks. Each year the ducks would come up to the house for cracked corn, first as a couple, then with seven or eight ducklings, and soon enough some of the ducklings would be missing a foot and then missing entirely the next day because of the turtles.
There were raccooons, too, and they'd raid the garden. One year, something came along and cut off all the pepper plants in a single row. Left them laying there to die and dry out. So Dad put up a foot or so high chicken wire fence around the garden, and a raccoon trap in the middle of the garden.
One Sunday morning, we looked out there to see a trapped raccoon standing there, with his paw hanging out in front of him, trap hanging there. The raccoon looking around seemingly with an attitude of "what you looking at?"
Dad went out with the .22 rifle (the only actual gun in the house ) and shot the raccoon. I don't remember seeing the actual killing moment.
We wrapped up the raccoon's body and put it in the stand up freezer and dad gave it to one of his coworkers because the guy's son was into taxidermy.
