What was I saying? I saw it from above. It had come out and was standing on its haunches, looking over to where the neighbors were celebrating Father’s Day with loud music and patio partying. At the first shot of the bolt, it ran toward its hole.
I approached, and it went closer and closer to ground. I came within four feet of the hole and stuck my arm out, with the camera on max optical zoom. Eventually, it stuck its head out, and I snapped, no flash.
You can see the shadow of my arm above the li’l varmint. No flash, so some blurriness due to the longer exposure. Oh, one last thing:
License to kill gophers by the government of the United Nations. Man, free to kill gophers at will. To kill, you must know your enemy, and in this case my enemy is a varmint. And a varmint will never quit—ever. They’e like the Viet Cong—Varmint Cong. So you have to fall back on superior intelligence and superior firepower. And that’s all she wrote.—Carl Spackler
Caddyshack
Durn cute varmints.
10:00:15 PM 
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