My brother belonged to a private club that had a very nice clubhouse located on a pretty little lake. They got the bright idea to have some landscaping done around the clubhouse. They had some relatively large, expensive, decorative trees moved to the lawn. A colony of nearby beavers thought "meals-on-wheels" had been brought to their neighborhood. The trees were apparently a real beaver delicacy and they attacked them with gusto. This resulted in complaints from the wealthy folks who paid for the landscaping and they wanted something done...soon. The board of directors appointed my brother and another intrepid soul, who were junior members of the board, to foil the offending rodents. They took a multiple pronged approach. First, they tried steel cribbing wrapped 'round the trees and quickly learned that beavers weren't stupid and just pulled the wire from the trees. Cage traps were a waste of time and money. Next, they tried chemical warfare with a beaver repellant which seemed to not only attract the beavers but also make them horny...as witnessed in some videos. Some prickly raspberry bushes were planted around the trees and seemed to work. But, the lawnmowing crew threatened to quit if they had to trim around the raspberries. By the next spring, most of the protected trees were damaged in some way and everybody was unhappy - except the beavers. My brother and the other BOD member decided that the solution, and some measure of revenge, would be to kill the damn critters, in a personal and bloody manner. Blowing them away with shotguns after the club closed would be just the ticket. They set up in tactically chosen spots loaded for bear - or beaver - with buckshot and flashlights. Along about 2:00 a.m.. on a bright moonlit night, the buddy touched off a 3" magnum of #4 buckshot and yelled, "I got one of the bastards!" Taking their flashlights they approached what appeared to be a small and anorexic beaver. They had killed the groundskeeper's housecat.
At the next board of directors meeting, my brother resigned.
True story - mostly - names were changed to protect me!
Yep, I'd tell about not being able to tell between a cat and a beaver. Some people shouldn't be out in the woods. Period.
