One of my many enterprises as a young boy was to trap gophers. Now for those of you who think, “How could you? They are so cute!” Let me tell you, they belong to the rodent family of rats and mice.
On my bicycle, which must have taken me around the world….oh maybe just around Titonka, I rode out over the railroad tracks, through the south side of town, and out onto the mud road. The same mud road that years later would trap my friend’s car in a snowbank. That’s another adventure story!
Once a fresh pile of dirt, otherwise known as a gopher mound, was discovered, I would dig down, set the trap, and carefully return the mound to its original condition. The next day, I hopped on my bicycle to go fetch my catch, or at least that was my hope.
But alas, someone had stolen my traps. I know they were stolen because a gopher can’t walk away with a trap around his leg. I think I dug up every gopher mound for the next two miles hoping to recover what was rightfully mine.
My recollection is that the gopher trapping business came to an abrupt end that day.
What’s the moral to this story? Even good guys get snookered in business once in a while! J
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