Gopher Broke

Once the bane of Little Pup Lodge, gophers have emerged (sorry), as the latest sport and entertainment source for our guests. What began as one suspicious hole in the back yard has metastasized into a veritable battlefield of craters and pockmarks. Partially, it is the relentless rodents’ fault. The terrier guests must take equal blame, however. That particular breed owes it’s name to the French, who called them Chiens Terrier, or “earth-dogs,” because they were bred to chase vermin down holes. Since most terriers can’t actually fit into the hole, the next logical step is to widen it. My part-terrier Oliver uses his teeth to tear chunks of lawn away when he’s convinced the claws aren’t doing it fast enough.
Orthodontia required.
 

Folks generally think of scruffy, wire-haired little guys and gals as terriers, but it helps to remember that the full name of one infamous type in that category is the American pit bull terrier. Pit bulls do not guest at Little Pup Lodge, but we do see more than our share of other terrier types. Oliver is more than happy to demonstrate for them what is expected of their breed. Eventually, we will be treated to a chorus line of doggy butts in the air as their front half gradually disappears from view.
Molly. A Min-Pin, but clearly a terrier at heart.


One might ask, and quite reasonably so, why the Little Pup Lodge concierge just stands and watches with amusement rather than trying to stop them. First of all, it’s the rock star v. Holiday Inn dilemma. The guests pay, after all, so what’s a few televisions thrown into the pool or drunken screams of laughter at 3am? Secondly, the gopher wars are over and the beady-eyed little bastards have long ago won. They may as well continue their scorched-earth path through yard. Finally, and this is the main reason, it makes my guests happy. If they want to believe that somehow, some way they will actually catch their very own gopher, more power to them.