Lucinda

Lucinda as a baby.  What a furball!

I love Lucinda.  She is a beautiful groundhog.  As I mentioned before, she's put on a lot of weight.  But she was even chubby as a baby.  She gets around via the cutest waddle I've ever seen.  She, perhaps due to her heavyweight status, also seems to be the most fearless groundhog I've ever seen.  One of my (human) neighbors left his building while she was grazing just outside of it.  Usually, a groundhog in this situation will run for his or her life: not Lucinda.  She stood her ground while keeping an eye on the human.  Once he walked away, she went back to stuffing her face with grass and weeds.   One day I was walking to my car.  I noticed that Lucinda was standing right next to the sidewalk.  I couldn't believe how close she let me get to her before she started to waddle away.
I put my plan into action.  I saw a bird pecking a groundhog, so I shouted "Leave her alone!" to the bullying bird.  As a result, all the birds in the immediate area took wing, and the groundhog ran for the cover of a nearby bush.  She came out again shortly afterward to graze again.  The birds also returned.  She was pecked by a bird again.  It made me so angry.  "Leave her alone, you goddamn bird!" is what I yelled that time.  Once again, the groundhog ran away.  The plan basically worked.  Both times, it put an end (temporarily) to the bullying.  I suppose I'll do it again if I witness any more of it.  Bullying, whether it's human against human, human against animal, or animal against animal, should be stopped.  By the way, I wouldn't interfere with the natural order of things.  I understand there are predators and prey and they are all a part of the food chain.  I think it's clear that some animals were meant to survive off the flesh of other animals.  The birds don't eat groundhogs, that's a ridiculous thought, they really are pretty much just bullying them.  Not if I see it though.
Birds are crazy though.  I heard a sound, so I went over to whence it came from: a window.  I realized that a sparrow was pecking on the window screen while another one looked on: craziness.  When I walked right up to the window, they both took off.  She made a hole in the screen.  I sure hope no money gets taken out of my security deposit for that.  What the hell was she doing?  Did she want to move into my apartment?  Put a tent on this freaking circus. 

Where's Sheila?

Where have you gone, Sheila?  Please come back.  I miss you.

A few days ago, it occurred to me that I haven't seen Sheila in a while.  I think it's been at least two weeks since I've seen her.  I'm worried about her.  I can think of three possible explanations for her absence.  As I've mentioned before, I've seen her attack her daughters twice.  The girls just keep growing; they're not babies anymore.  Lucinda, in particular, has put on a lot of weight.  I thought Sheila was the chubbiest groundhog I'd ever seen.  I'm pretty sure Lucinda has surpassed her in that department.  Maybe Sheila lashed out at one of her girls and one or more of them fought back and drove her away.  Perhaps, since the girls are growing so quickly, the family hole was no longer large enough to comfortably house all four of them, so Sheila, realizing that she had successfully raised three self-sufficient daughters, left for greener pastures and more space in her living quarters.  Another possibility is that she has died.  I hope that's not the case: unless she wanted to die, but I doubt that she did.  I suppose that groundhogs don't know what death is.  They probably don't know that they're going to die.  I have considered walking over to the family hole and looking inside for her, but I don't think I'll be able to do that.  What if I saw her dead body?  I don't want to see that.  I also might scare the hell out of one or more of the girls if I did that.
As I've mentioned before, I love all animals, and that certainly includes every single groundhog.  They are so cute.  But Sheila will always be my first groundhog love.  She's my first groundhog neighbor.  I saw her outside my windows several times before realizing that she lived in a hole right next to the building I live in.  Then she brought those three babies into my life, for which I will be eternally grateful to her.  Since she attacked her daughters, I suppose she isn't the perfect mother.  However, in fairness to her, I really think that she was trying to toughen them up and teach them to not be too trusting of other groundhogs when outside the safety of the family hole.
I would love to see Sheila come back.  I think that, at this point, it's unlikely.  I've never gone this long without seeing her before: not even close.  Sadly, I feel like I've seen her for the last time.  All I have now are pictures, memories, and wishes for her return.  Wherever she is, I hope she's happy.

Bumpkin Rises

Bumpkin became the new mayor of the city after slaying the previous one.

Just like she said she would (telepathically), Bumpkin has taken over the city of Rochester, NY.  I even gave her a ride to city hall.  I hope I won't be prosecuted for aiding and abetting, but I couldn't help it.  I have clearly become one of her brain-controlled zombies.  I am completely under her control; there's nothing I can do about it.  I walked with her to my car and opened the door for her.  She hopped in, and we were off.  As far as I know, that was Bumpkin's first car ride, which made it pretty annoying for me.  After all, I'm pretty sure she had never left my (her) apartment complex before.
"What's that?" she asked me telepathically when we passed a Rite Aid store.
"That's a Rite Aid store, Bumpkin."
"What is a Rite Aid store?"
"It's where people go to buy things they want or need."
"What does 'buy' mean?"
Of course she wouldn't know what "buy" means.  Bumpkin doesn't buy; she takes.  She has no money (currently), because she has no use for it (yet).  "People go into a store with money, that they worked for, stole, or was given to them, and they trade money for things."
"What is money?"
"It's made of paper or metal, it has different values, and it is used to trade for things that people want."
"What is work?"
I sighed.
"How dare you be rude to me!  You've seen what I can do.  I can end you whenever I want to.  I can also torture you for eternity."
"I'm sorry, Bumpkin; I really am.  I don't have any kids, so I'm not used to being asked all these sorts of questions."
"You will tell me everything I want to know, and you will not give me any attitude: end of discussion."
"Yes, ma'am."
"What is ma'am?"
"It is what you call a female that you respect."
"That's more like it.  Now, what is work?"
You get the idea.  As soon as I answered another one of her questions, it was immediately followed by another one.  Even though I was afraid of what would happen once we reached city hall, I couldn't wait to get there.  It was the most annoying car ride I'd ever had, even though it was a short trip.  We finally reached our destination.  "This is it, Bumpkin.  This is city hall."
"Good.  Open this thing for me."
"Yes, ma'am.  It's called a door, by the way."
"Whatever.  Just do it."
"Yes, ma'am."  I opened the door for her and she hopped out.  She promptly flung a fireball from her left front paw that demolished the doors of the building.  Guards, who had been stationed at the metal detector, rushed outside the building to see what caused the destruction.  Bumpkin burnt all of them to a crisp.  Then she scampered into the building.  I followed her.  We approached a guy in a suit who had an expression of shock on his face.  "Excuse me," I said to him, "Could you please tell us where the mayor's office is?"  He told us, so we went directly to it.
"Can I help you?" a woman asked us.  I assume she was the mayor's secretary.  Bumpkin roasted her.  I opened the door to the mayor's office for her.  She sauntered in.
"Just what the hell is going on around here?" the mayor asked.  He looked at Bumpkin.  "Hey, there's no rodents allowed in here!"
"This is Bumpkin," I said.  "She's a groundhog, and she's taking over the city."
"Over my dead body!" he said.
"That's her plan," I replied.  Sure enough, she jumped onto his chest and slashed his throat with her left paw.  She nearly decapitated him.  His blood stained my clothes.  I doubt I'll be able to get these stains out.
"Was he the mayor?" she asked me.
"Yes."
"Good."  Just like that, the city was hers.  I wouldn't want to be the county executive or the governor; that's for sure.  They're next.

Bumpkin's Vengeance

It's not a very good idea to bully Bumpkin or her family.

It finally happened.  Bumpkin found out about birds bullying her mother and sisters.  Let's just say it's gotten a lot quieter around here.  The chirping had been out of control.  The birds seemed to be in charge, and they never let any of us forget it.  They chirped all the time: and loudly.
Bumpkin climbed out of the family hole with revenge on her mind.  The birds, like me, have trouble telling the 3 groundhog sisters apart.  Well, 2 of them anyway.  Lucinda continues to pack on the poundage, which distinguishes her from her sisters.  Anyway, it seems like Bumpkin strategically chose when she was going to emerge from her home.  There were many birds in the apartment complex at the time.  She purposefully crawled to an area that contained many black birds, which are the sort that have bullied groundhogs around here.  Sparrows, doves, and robins seem to mind their own business, but those black birds have pecked groundhogs too nastily and too often.  Bumpkin picked a spot and began to munch on weeds and grass.  It didn't take too long for one of those angry black birds to peck her in the butt.  It took even less time for Bumpkin to turn around and decapitate the bird with one casual swipe of a paw.  Then the fireballs took over.  I had seen her hurl fireballs from her paws before, but never so many and never so quickly.  She stood up on her hindquarters and shot fireballs out of both paws like Clint Eastwood used to do with bullets in spaghetti westerns.  Those fireballs came fast and furious.  One black bird exploded into flames.  Another black bird was hit.  After a while, I lost count.  I'm pretty sure she toasted at least 30 of them.  It was chaos.  She hit them on the ground and in the air.  They tried to fly away, and she picked them off one by one.  I hated seeing those birds attack groundhogs, but I didn't enjoy seeing them trying to fly away while engulfed in flames.  What's even scarier is that I didn't see her miss even once.  I think she's been practicing.
Charred black bird bodies were still smoldering when Bumpkin returned to her first victim: the one she beheaded.  She dragged the unfortunate bird to the sidewalk.  I had a feeling I knew what was coming next.  Sure enough, next to her name, she wrote "Sloopy" "Lucinda" and "Mommy" on the sidewalk in bird blood.  As far as who shouldn't be messed with around here, she left no doubt.  How far will she go though?  Sometimes the maintenance workers cut the grass and use weed whackers.  When they do those things, they scare groundhogs away.  A maintenance worker armed with a weed whacker is no match for Bumpkin.  I don't care if they hire Chuck Norris to whack the weeds here.  Chuck Norris is tough; I wouldn't want to fight him.  But what can he do about multiple fireballs coming at him with great speed?

Bullying

Sheila attacking one of her babies.

Cute little animals have been bullied around here, and I don't like it.  Sheila has attacked her own groundhog children at least twice.  She made one of them cry.  I love Sheila; I can't help it.  She's my first groundhog love.  I loved her before I realized she was living in a hole right next to the building I live in.  After it was confirmed that we were neighbors, I loved her even more.  Then she brought her three babies into my life.  I tell myself there's a reason why she's attacked her own young.  She's just trying to toughen them up.  One of them scampered up to her mommy to say "hi," and this led directly to one of the attacks.  Maybe Sheila's trying to teach them that you have to have your guard up when you're out of the family hole; it's a tough world out there.
The birds are the worst.  One day I saw two baby groundhogs near each other; they were both eating grass.  A black bird pecked one of them in the butt.  The poor baby groundhog stopped eating grass abruptly.  She looked surprised.  It seemed like she was too scared to turn around to see what had happened.  Then she went back to eating grass.  That bird did the same thing to the other baby groundhog, who reacted the exact same way her sister did.  I was angry at this bird, but I also thought it was a little funny.  I don't think it's funny at all anymore.  Another day, I watched a bird peck one of the sisters repeatedly.  The poor thing didn't fight back at all.  It's frustrating, because the groundhogs are definitely bigger than these birds, so they shouldn't be taking any crap from them.  I hate seeing groundhogs being bullied.  What was this bird's problem?  Why was she attacking her instead of foraging for food?  Why is there so much aggression in this world?  Even the toughest of the groundhogs around here, Sheila, has been bullied by birds.  I've seen birds pecking groundhogs plenty of times now, but I've never seen one fight back against the feathered fiends.
I've decided to take matters into my own hands.  If I see birds bullying groundhogs, I will yell "Fight back!" out the window.  I'm not expecting them to fight back against the birds when I do that, but it will probably scare the groundhog, which would cause her to run for cover, which would, temporarily at least, put an end to the bullying.
What's really disturbing is the patches of fur that are missing from one of the sisters.  I can only conclude that she has been bitten where the fur is missing.  And I can't help suspecting that Sheila is responsible.
I think the heat is a factor.  The first time I saw baby groundhogs being bullied was on a very hot day.  In addition to that craziness, I saw a rabbit threaten a couple of squirrels.  One of the squirrels got into a standoff with the rabbit; she laid her tail on her back completely, which is something I'd never seen before.
Speaking of rabbits, it's strange that groundhogs, even babies, seem to not be afraid of them.  I've seen groundhogs intimidate rabbits at least twice.  The rabbits are larger than the birds who bully them.  I suppose it's true what they say; size isn't everything.  

Bumpkin 2: The Wrath of Bumpkin

So little, so cute, so deadly

Bumpkin is still causing mayhem around these parts.  For the second time, that I know of, she has fired a large and powerful fireball from one of her paws that has destroyed something.  In this case, it was a car.  The car exploded and went up like a tinderbox.  By the time the firemen put it out, the car was a total loss.  You couldn't even tell what make or model it was.  Again, the police came.  Naturally they'll want to investigate the cause of the blast.  Once again, I told them that Bumpkin the groundhog was responsible for the destruction, but I don't think they believe me.  I realize they probably think I have a screw loose in my head or something, but they'll see.  Once she takes the city, she'll seize the county, then the minds and wills of all human beings living within the great state of New York: the Empire State.  Though soon to be renamed "New Bumpkin: the Bumpkin State."  She already has every soul in my apartment complex, including mine, under her powerful spell.  She simply does not have to spend much time grazing anymore.  She has a battalion of brain-controlled zombies to do her bidding.  Whenever I hear her voice in my head, giving me a command, I follow it to the letter.  Most of the time, she's ordering me to pick grass, dandelions, and other sorts of weeds for her, her sisters, and her mother to consume as an in-hole snack.  Groundhogs eat weeds.  Let the groundhogs be free to do what they want, and they will eat weeds and keep the grass from getting too long.

Bumpkin used to be content to frolic in the grass with her mother and sisters, but now it seems like nothing will be able to quench her thirst for power.  I really think she intends to rule the world eventually.  With each and every giant fireball fired from a cute young groundhog paw, she gets more powerful and closer to her goal of total and complete domination of all the humans on the face of the planet.    

They Will Dance on Your Grave

"We will dance on your graves."

They look so cute.  They're baby groundhogs, they're sisters, and they're dancing.  Look a little closer though.  I asked Bumpkin and Sloopy why they were dancing.  Bumpkin said, and I quote, "We're practicing dancing on the graves of our enemies."  How has it gotten to this point?   It's not enough to impale and destroy, she also has to dance on her victim's graves?  And must she drag Sloopy into it, who I always thought was sweet.  I think she is, but, unfortunately, Bumpkin is probably controlling Sloopy to some extent, if not completely.  Sloopy hasn't been blessed (or cursed?) with the superpowers that have recently been bestowed upon Bumpkin by the dark netherworld. 
Bumpkin likes a lot of music, but lately she's been into Gangsta Rap.  She likes 'Pac, Jay-Z, and Eminem.  The dance her and Sloopy were doing was a sort of gangsta strut or gangsta stroll, as it were.  They stood up on their hindquarters (love that word), lowered their front legs, and did a slow gangsta roll, homie.  At least that's what Bumpkin called it.  It sounded about right to me; that's what it looked like, come to think of it.  But she could be wrong, we mustn't forget, she's superpowerful, but she's still just a wee-lil' baby groundhog after all.  So she could be wrong as far as what the dance she and Sloopy were doing is literally called, but she might be right too.  For a baby groundhog, she's a pretty smart cookie.  She'd likely destroy you in a trivia contest; she's a very quick study.  Of course, once she destroys you in trivia, she might elect to destroy your body and soul simultaneously.  And if she does, you're toast.  I've seen it before.  Consider yourself warned.  Do you want to become a fresh Bumpkin victim?  Maybe she'll write Sloopy's name in blood the next time she murders.  Her's was the first name to be written in blood on a sidewalk in my apartment complex.  I assume Sloopy will be next.  She seems to be closer to Bumpkin than their other sister, Lucinda, is.  Lucinda is, of course, very cute, but she's a little pudgy too.   She takes after her mother in that way.  Mother, like daughter, is a natural zaftig beauty.  There is photographic evidence to support these claims.  Trust me, if you are ever fortunate to have juvenile groundhogs living right next to you, you'd likely fall for them.  I love them. 

Bumpkin the Destroyer

R.I.P. building; you'll be missed

Bumpkin has earned another title. This time it's Bumpkin the Destroyer. She has just begun to test her powers, and today she unleashed them onto a building in my apartment complex. She destroyed it completely with a giant fireball that emanated from one of her paws. She only needed to raise her little paw to reduce an entire building to rubble. The police came. It seems like I was the only witness. I told them what happened. I don't think they believed me. When will they believe me? When it's too late? This is why Bumpkin's body is the perfect container for all those evil powers. Who would suspect a thing? People are so stupid and narrow-minded. I'm sure there's plenty of people who wouldn't believe what I saw, even if they saw it with their own eyes. She's already gotten away with the complete destruction of a building, the impaling of a cute bunny named Flopsy, and vandalism (When she wrote her name on the sidewalk in Flopsy's blood.).
It doesn't matter who I've called, no one has taken me seriously. I even called the Department of Homeland Security. I watch the news; I read the papers; I know what's going on. Bumpkin represents the gravest threat to the security of the United States. Her superpowers are increasing exponentially. Her attacks will continue and they will defy rhyme and reason. She destroys because she can; it's as simple as that. What will she destroy tomorrow? That's what will keep me awake tonight. Perhaps she'll destroy my building while I'm asleep, and I'll never know what hit me. That's just wishful thinking. My greater fear is that she'll turn me into one of her henchmen. It's getting harder and harder to resist the telepathic orders that she gives me on a regular basis. "I don't feel good. Go pick 345 blades of grass and toss them into my hole." No Bumpkin! "Come on, I'm sick: seriously." No Bumpkin, get it yourself! "You bring me that grass ASAP or I will eradicate you with extreme prejudice!" That did it. I picked and brought her the grass. My back is still sore from bending over 345 times. This is madness. Everyone living in this apartment complex is under her dark spell. Soon, the entire city of Rochester, NY will be under her control. Then she'll take Monroe County. Believe it or not, once she has control of the whole state of New York, and she will, she plans to celebrate by renaming it New Bumpkin. I know because I hear her voice in my brain 24/7! Bumpkin, for the love of all that's holy, please release me from your telepathic clutches!

Bumpkin the Impaler

Godspeed Flopsy; you'll be missed

I have sad news: very sad news indeed.   Bumpkin officially earned the moniker "Bumpkin the Impaler" when she impaled Flopsy the bunny with a sharpened stick.  Poor Flopsy.  Bumpkin only did it so she could write her name on the sidewalk using Flopsy's blood.  This could have been avoided if I had followed Bumpkin's order to write her name in blood.  But I would have had to spill the blood of another to do that, so it was a no-win situation for me.  But guess what?  Bumpkin forgot to dot the "i" in her name!  She nagged me about it; then she forgot to do it herself.  Oh well, she's just a baby groundhog; I suppose I should cut her some slack.  But only as far as misspelling goes, not impalings!  Impalings are wrong!  Bad Bumpkin!
Come to think of it, I better sneak out tonight and dot the "i" with some ketchup.  I'm worried that, once she notices her gaffe, she'll kill again just for the blood to dot the "i."
By the way, it's been confirmed.  It's my fault.  It happened just as I had suspected.  When I chose the perfect name for a baby groundhog, it opened a hole in the ground that allowed the netherworld to bestow Bumpkin with all the evil powers she would ever need.  As I feared, whenever you attach a perfectly cute name to a perfectly cute baby groundhog, there's a chance that you've created a perfectly powerful monster.
I know I should try to end Bumpkin's reign of terror before it goes any further, but I don't think I can do that.  Sure, I created her, well, I didn't create her, her mama, Sheila, and I think the scrawny groundhog created her via conception, but I am responsible for the evil superpowers she possesses.  I know Gregory Peck tried to take his own son out in The Omen, but that was just a movie.  That wasn't real.  Besides, I don't stand a chance against Bumpkin; she'd eat me for breakfast.  I couldn't hurt something that cute anyway.  And that's exactly why she'll succeed in her evil ways.  Her cuteness will allow her to get away with anything and everything.  

Curse of Bumpkin

Is Bumpkin evil?

Beware thee the Curse of Bumpkin, for tis a powerful one!  Damn you!  Damn you, cursed brain, for coming up with the perfect name for a baby groundhog: Bumpkin.  The pursuit of perfection sometimes leads to madness.  I named her so innocently.  I knew not what I was doing.  I created a monster!  I named her then went about my business.  I was watching a DVD when "Bumpkin" popped into my head.  Yes, it's a cute name for a baby groundhog; now let's get back to the DVD.  However, a few minutes later, Bumpkin popped into my head again.  Yes, I know, Bumpkin: wonderful, great, now let's move on.  But I couldn't move on.  I can 't go five minutes without thinking of Bumpkin!  She's in my head, and she's controlling my thoughts!
Whatever you do, never, never, never, even if a gun is pointed at your head (even if a baby groundhog is wielding the gun), name a baby groundhog Bumpkin.  Don't make the same mistake I did.  If you do, you will surely live to regret it.  I know, because I have sowed the wind, and now I am reaping the whirlwind.  When you can't go five minutes without Bumpkin in your brain, you are a step away from complete, unadulterated madness!
No, Bumpkin!  I will not shed blood for you!  You don't need blood!  You eat grass.  No Bumpkin!  I will not write your name on the sidewalk in spilled blood!  And I won't forget to dot the "i."  Wait a second!  I won't dot the "i," because I'm not doing it at all!  I'll do no such thing!  You don't need that!  I know it was me who named you!  What does that have to do with writing your name using the blood of an innocent, pray tell?  You are completely out of control, Bumpkin.  Remember the days when you were content to be cute, eat grass, and play with your sisters?  Please, I beg you, return to your carefree, innocent ways.  I can't take the pressure anymore!  Please get out of my head!  No!  You do not need blood!  Please free me, Bumpkin!  Please free me from your magic baby groundhog spell!    

More Baby Groundhogs

You gotta love 'em.

I can't get enough of the baby groundhogs; they are shining stars in the universe in which I dwell.  If the strongest super powers were doled out to the cutest, then these would be very powerful baby groundhogs indeed.  They are charming the world.  I believe strongly that, the three of them together, are ready to rule Earth in its entirety: including all of its inhabitants.  I'd compare them to the Kennedys, but the thought of any of them being assassinated is one that I cannot bear.
As the baby groundhogs wait to come into power, they continue to be cute.  The three of them seem to have a favorite bush.  They stand on their hindquarters and reach for its branches.  Perhaps the leaves of the bush are very tasty, or maybe, instead of being cat nip, they are some sort of groundhog nip.  Two of them played near this bush.  They played just like puppies would.  They sniffed each other, pawed playfully at each other, and showed off their bellies while lying on their backs.  This bush is located right in front of an apartment building.  At least one of the baby groundhogs seems to want her own apartment.  She climbs the steps to the door, frequently pausing on the first one with her rear paws on the sidewalk and her front paws on the step.  Once she gets to the door, it looks like she's trying to figure out a way to get inside.
At least one of the baby groundhogs is aware of my presence.  I was walking to my building when I saw one out in the open: munching on grass.  She saw me and ran toward some bushes as I said, "Hi baby groundhog."  Perhaps that is the same baby groundhog who seemed to notice me as I was staring at them from one of my windows while only wearing a pair of boxer briefs.  I waved to her, and it seemed like she reacted to that.  Therefore, I decided to dance a little, in an effort to entertain her.  She promptly ran behind the bush.  Perhaps she wasn't quite ready to see me dancing in my underwear.    
I heard a bird chirping away near my bedroom window, so I went over there to chirp back at her.  She didn't seem to mind my chirping, so I clapped my hands together a few times.  She left the windowsill.  She wasn't the only one startled by my clapping.  I caught a glimpse of three groundhog butts as they made their way into the cover that the vegetation would provide.
The baby groundhogs are very curious and playful.  They like to explore their neighborhood.  One of them scurried to her mommy, who rewarded her with a sweet nuzzle.  One of them tried to climb a yellow fire hydrant.  When climbing didn't work, she jumped: trying to catch the ledge.  She missed and fell on her butt.  She recovered immediately, so she didn't seem to be hurt at all.  After all, she's not Michael Jordan; she didn't jump very far.  That groundhog will conquer that fire hydrant, and once she does, even the sky would dare not limit her.  She, and her siblings, will be able to do anything they set their minds to.  She's not afraid of heights; perhaps she'll be the first groundhog astronaut.