Love, Loss and Hardcore Cuteness

Let me tell you a little story about the cutest thing I have ever seen in my long life. But first, you must understand something. My favorite animal.... is a woodchuck. Please, let me explain.

When I was about 6 or 7 years old, I was begging my Mom to play outside with me. She had shit to do, so she convinced me that a lawn mower ride was the most fun thing that could possibly happen that afternoon. After a good stare down, I agreed to go on the journey with her. We had a ridiculously large yard at the time with barns and such scattered around it. I got bored about 5 minutes into this epic ride, so I started started pretending my Mom and the riding mower were a horse and I was a sweet ass cowgirl with 2 six shooters for hands that could do riding tricks. My Mom didn't care, just told me not to fall off or I would get chopped up and not be cute anymore.

As I spin around to shoot bad native Americans chasing us across the western plains for our dry goods, I see something really tiny and fluffy following us about 5 feet back. I shriek and start smacking my Mom on the back of the head because I want to immediately get my hands on this little furry marshmallow of a creature before my Mom turns it into a spray of blood and guts with our John Deere. She slams on the brake assuming I have lost a shoe or something and turns the mower off. The animal stops too and looks up at us. I am in love. What the fuck is this thing???

When we climb off the mower, Mom turns around to look for my Ked and sees the baby fuzz ball. "Holy shit.... has that been there for long?" she says to me. I tell her "I have no idea, but I WANT it". I assume it's a fat, deformed bastard kitten from one of the many farm cats that dwell on our property. This is when my Mom laughs in my face and says "Um, no, it's obviously not a cat. It's a baby woodchuck. I've never seen one dig people before. They're angry animals and you can't touch it". She might as well have just kicked me in the face and told me I'm her least favorite child. (so not true, by the way)


Now, no has never been a word I have dealt with well. This time is not an exception as the baby chuck is now sniffing around my feet, wiggling its fat little ass and I am denying the very nature of my being by not bending down and snatching it up in my eager hands. I look up at my Mom and I harness every single bit of facial expression energy I have. The woman is an iceberg and does NOT respond to brat-ass fits or meaningless pleading, but true, gut-wrenching grief? I own her. The unstoppable one-two combo of chin quivering and silent streams of tears down my cherubish cheeks did her in.


"Cripes, let me get you some work gloves at least". (Win!) Mom goes to the garden shed and I am simply vibrating with joy over my new pet. Over the next few days, I feed it rabbit food, (they are old news now that I have basically made a wild animal fall in love with me) give him a name, (Herbie) and tell him we'll always be best friends. My Mom informs me that this will not last as his Mom is probably looking for him and will either take him back home, or ..... possibly destroy him for having our scent on him. I ignore her and fall deeper into my woodchuck love affair. He's the best.


About 4 days later, I'm putting my Cabbage Patch Kids down for their afternoon nap when I look out my bedroom window and see a GIANT woodchuck near Herbie. I haul ass down the stairs screaming for my Mom and Dad like someone who was about to witness a grizzly murder. Little did I know.... My Mom and Dad exchange a glance when I tell them what's going on outside and they tell me to wait for them to get back, the Mom might be mad. Mad indeed. I can't bring myself to look out the window because I'm scared that my woodchuck best friend is getting it's ass kicked. My Mom returns while my Dad is handling business in the yard. Thus begins their first conversation with me about death and loss.

They inform me that the Mom (or Dad, who the fuck knows which is which with woodchucks, they all look the same) has killed Herbie. This is far worse than the time they had to convince me that I wasn't adopted (another blog, another time). I am beside myself. I quietly sob for days in my room with my face down in my Muppets sheets recalling all the special moments Herbie and I shared. My Mom only gets me out of the funk by telling me how absolutely crazy radical it is that a woodchuck liked me at all, they usually hate people so much they fuck up their yards. Already thinking at that time that I am pretty awesome, I sniffle a little more, dry my tears, punch my Cabbage Patch Kids for making me miss even one second with a live animal and move forward. I also gave Herbie's murderer forgiveness because, after all, it's a wild fucking animal. It doesn't know shit. Can't be mad at someone who doesn't know shit, it's just not right.


Present day-


I still love woodchucks. More than any human should love any animal that can never be domesticated. I start searching for them from the confines of my car every spring the second the ground thaws enough for them to waddle their huge tushies up to the surface. I know that they're kinda weird with fucked up crooked teeth, but so is Hugh Grant and he is loved by movie goers all over the world!


A few days ago, I'm at a stop sign that T's into a busy road near me. Across the T, there's a farm house that has a small orchard in their yard. There's always woodchucks out there in the grass so I'm looking over to spot some friends and give them a what up wave. I see what I think is a little dog sitting under one of the trees. Then, it was basically a "that's no moon, that's a space station" moment, but in a good way. Upon closer inspection, it was not a dog but a woodchuck... sitting up... leaning slightly to the side on it's own ass fat... holding an apple and nibbling on it. My head almost exploded. "OH MY GOD, THAT'S A FUCKING WOODCHUCK EATING AN APPLE!!!" I scream to myself in my car alone. I blaze out onto the busy road to get a closer look. I don't even care that there are other cars on this street, I slow down so much that I can fully take in the woodchuck's facial expression. Nothingness.. it's just staring into a wheat field eating, but still, it's magnificent. I'm giggling like an idiot, memorizing in minute detail every bit of this moment, my eyes are welling up with tears of joy. It's absurd. Cars behind me finally start honking at me to speed up. I do, but not without flipping them off while getting one last long look at my special little woodchuck neighbor. It was the single cutest thing I have ever seen.


I know people think I'm a freak, and that goes without saying, but I think we've all learned some things here. 1. I tame wild animals just using my essence and 2. One girl's ugly woodchuck is someone else's Hugh Grant. You know?