This Means War!

The last couple of days I've been waging war against groundhogs. (This may be a violation of Pennsylvania code given Punxutawney Phil and all that. Just kidding. Ground hogs are considered vermin in PA. They're fair game.) I've caught them coming out on the lawn during the day, but they must also be making it into the garden as well. The leaves of the zucchini and cucumbers have been nibbled--just as they were getting large.

I've spotted three different critters. Two are large--one very dark chocolate and one milk chocolate in color. Then today a smaller one showed up.

I'm beginning to feel like Clint Eastwood:

Only, I've got an air rifle and not a shotgun. And I'm sneaking out onto the deck and trying to get a bead on them before they head for the tall weeds. The big ones have learned that the cocking of the rifle and/or sliding of the screen door mean something. Just the tiniest noise, and they dive for cover. The little one who showed up today hasn't learned yet...despite being hit at least twice. (The big ones got hit once or twice in the last few days.)

Conclusions:
1) The fat of a groundhog is thick enough to absorb the .177 pellets even traveling at 1400 fps.

2) Being absorbed in the fat, they do little damage. Especially since they don't expand upon contact like lead would do.

3) I'm going to need a bigger gun. Oh, I've got them, but using a 12 gauge or a .30-.30, or a .270 or a 50 caliber muzzle loader seems excessive.

4) I'm going up to the Bolt Hole tomorrow. I'll be bringing the .22 home with me.

5) In the mean time, I've extended the chicken wire fence down the side of the garden in an attempt to halt their depredation.