Earlier this month, we witnessed a rare treat of nature as the mother skunk we didn’t know was living under our porch moved her four babies from her den to a new home down the block.

I say “treat” because we had the protection of a door and Mama Skunk never sprayed us. I had never seen a live skunk before, let alone babies, and we rednecks appreciate wildlife alive as much as dead.

A few days after the skunks moved, I filled their den, but a new entryway quickly reappeared. We thought it was the skunks again — until my wife almost stepped on a groundhog as it was heading into another hole underneath the stairs to our back porch. (Our block also is overrun with rabbits and squirrels, and we’ve seen possums.)

I’ve been filling holes almost daily since then to try to discourage the nasty and destructive little rodent, but he won’t take the hint. I’ve even shoved cans, logs and rocks into the burrow, but Mr. Groundhog is a tough little creature. He’s managed to force most of the obstacles out of his way and digs around the others.

So this evening, when he appeared in our neighbor’s yard, I rushed upstairs to grab the trusty Red Ryder of my youth. I put a BB in Mr. Groundhog’s backside, hoping that he will just get the message he’s not welcome and will move on his own.

No such luck. Five minutes later, he was in our backyard. I popped him again, this time on the run. He ran into the other burrow he dug under our shed — the one I had plugged with a sizable stone yesterday evening but that he had quickly moved.

My grandfather and uncles taught me to despise groundhogs from a young age because of the havoc they wreaked on the family farm. Folks on Indian Creek in West Virginia used to kill them as nuisances. Now I’m seeing firsthand the damage they can do in an urban setting. Groundhogs dig as deep as five feet, and their burrows can be as long as 45 feet, with two to five escape openings. They can move up to 900 pounds of dirt a day.

Imagine how that much emptiness underneath a house can undermine a foundation. As a Facebook friend told me the other day: “Kill or catch that groundhog NOW! They will destroy your yard because they are ferocious diggers and they always dig escape routes.”

I feel like I’m in my own personal Caddyshack battle with this rodent, but as I boldly proclaimed to our children, “I will win!” One way or another, Mr. Groundhog will be defeated. Otherwise, I’ll have to relinquish my redneck credentials.