Mr. Frugalist vs. The Groundhog: A Garden Grudge Match

You know, I’ve always believed there’s enough world to share—until someone crunches my marigolds like popcorn on movie night.

A few weeks ago, our neighbor across the street sent me a text giving me a heads up gave me a heads-up. “Watch out,” she said, “there’s a groundhog crossing the street straight to your back yard.” I nodded politely, looked around, and shrugged. I kept an eye out and other than one suspicious nibble on the top of a marigold, there was no real evidence he had moved in. I had been hopeful that he’d kept right on going.

Well. He moved in.

It started innocently enough. There he was, the groundhog, bold as brass, right up on our deck like he paid taxes and lived here. Just standing there, stuffing his face with my flowers like he was rating them for Yelp. Mr. Frugalist, ever the calm and calculated one, opened the door and said, “Hey!”

Now you’d think a groundhog might scurry off in shame. Not this one. This guy took a moment, grabbed a branch—a snack for the road—and then bolted under the shed like it was his personal bat cave.

At that point, I figured I’d go check the vegetable garden, because where there’s marigold munching, there’s probably more. And sure enough, the collard greens were gone. Not nibbled. Not lightly grazed. Gone. About a foot of them, eaten down to sad little nubs like they’d been through a lawn mower with a grudge.

That’s when the muttering started.

Now Mr. Frugalist is walking around the yard like a man possessed. I catch snippets—“Worked too hard for this,” “darn freeloading furball,” and a few phrases I can’t print here without a PG-13 rating. He’s digging out scrap wood for a live trap, researching groundhog behavior like he’s writing a thesis, and muttering about installing motion lights, cameras, and possibly laser turrets.

The war is on.

I’m not sure what Mr. Frugalist is going to come up with. I offered to cover the bed with netting and he muttered if I wanted to…..it trailed off, I don’t know what else he said, not sure I want to know.

Stay tuned for Part 2: “The Groundhog Strikes Back.”

Or Part 3: “Return of the Frugalist.”

Until then, I’ll be over here replanting collards and pretending not to notice the tripwire by the shed.

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🛠️ Have your own backyard nemesis? Tell us in the comments! Bonus points if they also enjoy marigolds.
🌱 Need cheap fencing ideas? Don’t ask Mr. Frugalist right now unless you want a TED Talk on vengeance and recycled pallets.