Welcome back to the Monkey Ranch! We are always so glad to have you spend time with us. You know we always have something fun going on. I been missin’ y’all and I know y’all been missin’ me!
The last time y’all came by, I was in the process of re-caning an old rocking chair that once rocked on my granddaddy’s front porch. It’s finished now — looks like brand new — and is now rocking a new G-Daddy. You know how much I enjoy working with old country stuff.
Speaking of such, let me tell y’all about one of my newest projects: Building an old-fashioned rabbit trap.
Hang on and enjoy the tale:
There’s something satisfying about re-creating an old-fashioned trap. It’s like stepping into the shoes of the old-timers who had to outwit critters with little more than wood, wire, and a good dose of patience. So, when I saw an old wooden rabbit trap, I thought, “Wow, I love the old “use what you have” technology to solve a problem. I can do that. Let’s get at it”.
Now you know my workshop is the half of the garage that mama don’t use. My work tables all have wheels so I can roll them out one work bench at a time. The best description of my workshop can be condensed to “Make Do”. Between old tools, scrap lumber, a hand-me-down table saw and a box of rusty drill bits I will try to build or fix anything – if I don’t break it first.
I did modify my trap with wire-covered windows. I do not intend to open the release door on any trap that I can’t eyeball whatever critter is stuck inside. After hours of sawing, hammering, and admiring my handiwork and using a stick to affect quality control, I had myself a beautiful wooden trap that actually worked, WITH WINDOWS. But beauty wasn’t the goal here. The goal was to catch a rabbit – the very one that had been treating my garden like an all-you-can-eat buffet. Now, let me clarify something: I don’t eat anything I catch, nor do I intend to. The grand plan was to relocate this rabbit to someone else’s garden. Preferably someone who mistakenly thinks he is wiser than me. Capiche, Bubba?
Boo-Boo’s Wisdom
Before I set the trap, I rang up my old trapping buddy Boo-Boo. He always has one pocket full of smarts and the other pocket full of mother-wit (common sense). The man can think with both hands. He knows more about catching animals than anybody on our side of the Waccamaw River.
“Here’s what you do, I ain’t gonna talk no faster than you can listen, so pay attention”, he said. “Chop up an onion and put it on top of the trap. That smell’ll lure that rabbit right to the scene of the crime. Then you cut up that apple and put it inside the trap. A rabbit loves an apple more than them raccoons love a honey bun! See, the onion feeds his curiosity, and the apple puts the noose around his neck. No way to miss!”
With Boo-Boo’s sage advice in mind, I carried my new old trap across my back yard and put it down on the edge of my wounded garden which is bordered by woods. I baited it with the onion and a quartered apple, and left that trap to do its work. All my trap, the onion and that apple needed was the last – and most precious – ingredient: patience.
What I Got Instead
The next morning, I headed out with all the confident swagger of a king of the jungle. The door to my trap was closed! And whatever was in that wooden box was throwing a burn the house down hissy fit! I eased up behind that box and bent over to peek in my wire window, but instead of a rabbit, I was staring eyeball to eyeball at a very pissed-off, worn- ragged squirrel. Not just any squirrel – this was a full-blooded demon squirrel with the frantic determination of a chainsaw running on high-test gas. I swear, that squirrel had chewed all of the new and most of the old off my trap. I think you can go to Hell for doing that.
By this time, my new old trap was half chewed into kindling. That demon squirrel had spent the night turning my beautiful, brand-new old trap into a pile of wood chips. When I opened the trap door, he shot out like he had just stolen a new TV, probably cussing me out in squirrel-speak as he streaked into the woods and up a tree, where he found a limb and just sat there glaring, like he was giving me the finger. I picked up what was once my treasured, trap and absorbed the scene of destruction inflicted by that demonized squirrel’s buck teeth.
However, as I carried my half-chewed trap back to the garage, I did take some small satisfaction from the fact that as my demon squirrel chowed down on my Home Depot pine box, he soon discovered that I had used brass screws and galvanized nails – surely a root canal somewhere in his near future. that had certainly caused significant dental distress. Serves that snaggled-tooth SOB right! Yeah, nothing like frontier justice. I couldn’t hold back a quick smile.
I called Boo-Boo to give him a play-by-play account of my train wreck.
“Yeah, that squirrel jumped right into the middle of your thinking,” Boo-Boo cackled as he shook his head. “Hijacked your best-laid plan. Your rabbit never had a chance to take the bait.
“We gotta figure out how to think faster than a demon squirrel”, I responded.
Boo-Boo looked at me and gave me that oh so familiar smile , “We? It ain’t my garden, it ain’t my rabbit, and – hallelujah — it ain’t my squirrel!” Maybe next time. We’ll see.
Lessons Learned
Here’s what I know now:
- A squirrel’s teeth don’t care about your craftsmanship.
- Them brass screws don’t care about that squirrel’s teeth,
- Boo-Boo’s “no way to miss” plan got hijacked.
- Relocating a rabbit can get “squirrelly” real quick.
But hey, life at The Monkey Ranch isn’t about winning. It’s about the stories—and I’ve got plenty. If you’ve ever been outsmarted by a critter or know a better way to handle a rabbit problem, let me know. And if you’re just here for the laughs, check out my YouTube channel, The Monkey Ranch. In the meantime, on the one hand I have a half torn up rabbit trap; on the other hand, I have a handful of brass screws that are just like new. The rabbit is still eating my garden, and that demon squirrel is sticking to mashed potatoes (no gravy) — at least for a while.
I better stay on my toes, but, don’t you ever doubt — so should those critters. There ain’t no quitters here on the Monkey Ranch. Capiche, Bubba!
I am so glad y’all dropped by and stayed long enough to help me go on about my squirrel trials and tribulations. I would really appreciate your comments or input on this episode or to share a story about your own debacles. But remember, advice is as welcomed here as General Sherman was in Atlanta. No Yankee cannon please. — Come back when you can —