Bunola, Pennsylvania - Living on the edge (of the tomato patch)

This garden was once my home. However, my fondness for tomato plants did not go down well with the Independent Mountain Man up at the big house. One day, as dusk settled on the riverside trees, I was cogitating whilst sucking on a juicy red one among the vines.

Suddenly, my whiskers twitched, and my little groundhog mouth did tiny circles in the air... I could smell danger. (I later realised it was just whisky, cigarettes, and unlit gundpowder.) And there it was: an enormous hairy biped was staring at me down the barrel of an air rifle, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, trigger in one hand, beer in the other.

I had the defining Caddyshack moment every groundhog dreads, and decided it was time to make a move. Valderee, valderah. Here are my tales.

This is the roof of my family's house. Little damp, but it was home.


This was our view - right up to the biped's smoking den.