I speak for my trees!

So here is the other side of the picture I posted on Mother's Day, this time with my mom cropped out. Because today is all about my dad. (But aren't I still adorable?)

You can't tell from this picture, but that skinny little guy is quite the outdoors man. He likes to hunt and fish and just watch nature in all its glory. Until it infringes on his space.

They are up at the lake for the summer, and my dad has planted his little garden with I am sure tomatoes, zucchini, green beans and maybe cucumbers. He also has a something called a flower patch, where he has tossed wild flower seeds around to bloom. He spends his time tending his garden, mowing, fishing and generally driving my mom crazy because he can't sit still. The joys of retirement. All is well in Dickie's world, again, until nature infringes on his space. I called him last week, and he was particularly chatty, and then something caught his eye...

OH there’s a ... Hold on a minute....
(Silence.)
There was a little bunny that just hopped across my yard!
And you had to go watch it?
Well, I had to make sure it wasn’t another creature heading to my garden. It’s planted all nice and neat.
Like what? A rat?
I don’t know. But it hopped, so I knew it wasn’t a beaver.
I thought you had the beaver removed. (He did. It involved cages and game control.)
That was three years ago. I think another one has come in its place. I don’t want it eating my trees!
Well, that’s what beavers do.
I am looking out my window right now at millions of trees. Why does he eat mine?
Maybe you have tasty trees.
No, he eats the one that is right by the water, so he can have a nibble and then take a little swim while leisurely chewing on a branch.
That’s what beavers do. It’s just doing its beaver thing.
If it comes back again, I’m going to shoot it.
I really don’t think you are allowed to do that...
Well if I miss it and it turns me in, then I’ll worry about it.
I am quite sure that if you go out and shoot at a beaver, someone will call the police and say Dick Havich is out with a shot gun shooting at shit.
I wouldn’t use a shot gun.
(pause)
I would use a rifle.
Yes, well, whatever, I am sure there is some sort of rule about shooting things in non-designated hunting areas.
I put chicken wire around the bottoms of my trees. Hopefully that will deter him. I don’t want him eating my trees.

And that turned into a story about a thrush that has made a nest on the ground and a robin that made a nest on top of his step ladder while he was at Home Depot. He moved the nest back to his woodpile, and they rebuilt it up on a beam. He is concerned for the safety of all birds involved, as there have been cats around.

While I am, of course, touched by his concern for baby birds, the only thing running through my head is "He's going to shoot at a beaver and end up in jail."

My mom assured me she would not let this happen (the shooting part), and Jenny said not to worry, he'll be out there with pie plates and empty butter tubs to rig up something to protect the birds. He's "clever" that way.

It's Dickie v. Nature, and I think Nature is winning. At least it's succeeding in keeping him occupied, and the rest of us entertained.

Happy Father's Day, Dad!
I LOVE YOU!