A good day to die

Sunday was.... if you were a gopher or a mole! While weeding my vegetable garden I heard a rustling and, looking over, saw some weeds swoosh away and disappear down a gopher hole. I caught it out of the corner of my eye, but I needed to be certain. I didn't want my hopes of killing to be disappointed. So I pulled out some nice, fresh weeds, and stuck them root end first into the gopher hole with the leafy part sticking out. I went about my gardening. Just as I was going to leave the garden and go make lunch, the rustling resumed. I looked, and the weeds I had placed were gone. "Now I have you", I thought. "You are mine. Your blood is my property!" I got the hose, placed it in the hole and turned it on. It only took a few seconds for the fiend to stick his head up, gasping for breath. The only problem was that he didn't come all the way out -- just stuck his head and upper body out. So for a few minutes I played "Whack-a-Mole", only the live gopher version. I'd hit with the shovel, and he would duck back in. When I tired of that, I scooped into the dirt and got him out. Then I smashed him with a few whacks of the shovel. Elliot was just a couple feet away throughout this process. Hopefully it wasn't too traumatizing. He seemed interested. Then he held my hand and we cheered triumphantly while we took the corpse to the trash can. Later that day, at Mary and Bill's house, Bill caught a mole (he's constantly battling them just as I am the gophers) and I truly shared in his joy. My husband was so proud of my reaction when, instead of screaming or being grossed out, I cheered. It was a good day to die.