Rosslyn’s yards, gardens, meadows, and woods are thick with wildlife. Sure, some are charismatic and mysterious like bobcats and the coyotes. But others are more familiar. Sometimes even mettlesome. I would like to introduce you to Woodchuck Chuck.
The photos in this post were actually taken in the summer of 2010, so the Woodchuck Chuck featured today is likely a great, great, great grandfather to the current generation enjoying Rosslyn’s vegetable garden.
Our hungry Rosslyn marmot, let’s call him Woodchuck Chuck (more of a nod to my juvenile enthusiasm than a gift for gabbing with varmints), turns out to love cucumbers for breakfast… and his palette doesn’t even depend on peanut butter to tempt.
(Source: Woodchucks & Cucumbers)
Lest you’re more mature (in years and/or wisdom) than yours truly and the years have robbed you of the pleasures of Woodchuck Chuck’s namesake tongue twister, here it is.
How much wood could a woodchuck chuck
If a woodchuck could chuck wood?
As much wood as a woodchuck could chuck,
If a woodchuck could chuck wood.
— Mother Goose (Source: Poetry Foundation)
I strongly encourage you to exercise your mandible, lips, and tongue a moment. Pleasant, right? Remember, practicing that as a youngster? Perfecting it, and then rattling it off more than most adults probably wished to witness? Me neither. After all, that would’ve been annoying.
Which brings me back to this fellow and his kin. Cute. Charming. Amusing to watch. But also, sometimes at least, annoying.
Which is why, today, that aperture through the carriage barn foundation which allowed access to woodchucks and other critters is today covered with an iron grate to permit ventilation but limit the traffic of wildlife.
Poor Woodchuck Chuck, do you think? Perhaps. But a reasonable compromise, I think.
Before I conclude, I’d like to leave you with something a little more substantive about the woodchuck (a.k.a. the groundhog) acknowledging it’s rightful place in our community, and celebrating the many nicknames this fellow has earned over the generations.
The groundhog (Marmota monax), also known as a woodchuck, is a rodent of the family Sciuridae, belonging to the group of large ground squirrels known as marmots. The groundhog is a lowland creature of North America; it is found through much of the Eastern United States, across Canada and into Alaska.
[…]
The groundhog is also referred to as a chuck, wood-shock, groundpig, whistlepig, whistler, thickwood badger, Canada marmot, monax, moonack, weenusk, red monk, land beaver, and, among French Canadians in eastern Canada, siffleux. The name “thickwood badger” was given in the Northwest to distinguish the animal from the prairie badger. Monax (Móonack) is an Algonquian name of the woodchuck, which means “digger” (cf. Lenape monachgeu). Young groundhogs may be called chucklings.
(Source: Wikipedia)
There it is, a curious creature with a LOT of nicknames. But let’s resist the temptation to refer to Woodchuck Chuck as a varmint. Sometimes annoying, yes. But varmint is a little discourteous, don’t you think?
What do you think?