Helen named him Geoffrey: "Geoffrey - with a 'G' - because he's so glamorous!"
Yes, Geoffrey is glamorous. Beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous.
And I want him dead.
Geoffrey looks exactly like this:
I do believe this is the very same fellow who bombed the air intake of our heat pump back in February, effectively stinking up our entire house (you can read that story HERE.) The smell lingered for months.
I think he hangs around our house because the next-door neighbors are known to put out pans of delicious left-overs on the porch for the local wildlife. (I also think that is how Geoffrey got to be so incredibly fat and shiny.) We don't put out left-overs here at our house, but Geoffrey has us on his regular evening circuit all the same.
Anyway, I headed out the back door yesterday evening to go shut up the hen house for the night. Just as I launched down the back stairs, Geoffrey popped out from under the steps. With the momentum of 160 pounds already in motion, I couldn't stop.
Geoffrey stood up on his hind legs, spread his front paws wide, and hissed at me like a mad cat.
Since there was no way I was going to turn the Titanic around, I opted to bolt forward as fast as I could. If Geoffrey decided to spray, maybe I could run far enough, fast enough, to avoid the worst of it.
I made it across the back yard faster than an Olympic sprinter. And thankfully, Geoffrey did not have time to turn around and douse me.
Needless to say, after I closed up the chickens for the night, a made a very wide, circuitous path back to the house and came in the front door.
I miss having the fur trapper around. I think it's time he came home for a visit.
1 month ago