Even the title of this post makes me laugh. And hang on, cause it gets better!

I came home the other night and was immediately told to sit down and shut my eyes. Ok, that makes me a tad nervous but I played along. So Eva, Domi and I sat on the couch with our heads covered with my jacket. Finally Darrin came into the room and said, “Surprise!” Well holy shit, this really was a surprise!! A huge stuffed beaver! It appeared to be swimming past a log.


My San Francisco self screamed, “And What In The Hell Do You Plan on Doing With That Thing?”

“Mounting it on the wall of course,” Darrin said while looking at me like I was from Mars.

Ok, I’m not the alien in this situation. Who the hell has a BEAVER mounted on their WALL???? Apparently I do.

Let me take you back to the summer of 2007. Darrin lined the road into our house with trees. When he planted them they were smaller than our 2 and 3 year old.


Now fastforward to 2012. The trees are more than 25 feet tall. They are gorgeous and the fruit of Darrin’s hard labor.


That is until Darrin noticed all of them were being eaten alive. He assumed a beaver was gnawing on them because a beaver’s front teeth never stop growing so they have to file them down. Our trees were suddenly emory boards.


So father and son went on a beaver hunt (did my San Francisco Self really just say that???).

One night, they took a flashlight and sat on the banks of the ditch that runs through our property and waited. It didn’t take long before a 60 pound mammal came swimming through a culvert and headed right for our trees. With one shot, Darrin and Domi had their beaver. (Note, we tried to trap the beaver several times.  It didn’t work.  This was truly our last resort)

Living on a ranch, Darrin buries animals when they die. So I just figured that’s what he had done with the beaver.  So now fastforward to the other night and imagine my surprise when there, in my family room, was a stuffed beaver.


The kids wanted to name it.


Donner went bananas trying to figure out if she should attack it.


Max figured it was a new friend to rub up on.


Even Cody, who’s rarely a part of my crazy family antics, made an appearance to see what all the commotion was about.


Days later it was mounted on the wall. Now for the rest of our lives, my husband’s beaver will be on display for all to see.   20130822-210933.jpg









 But you know me!  I’ve had a little fun with it as well.  Like when a couple we recently met came over and I grabbed the husband’s hand and asked, “Would you like to see my beaver?”






About Wendy D

I was born in San Francisco and ended up marrying a rancher in Reno, Nevada. I have a big city job anchoring the 5 o’clock news but come home to the country where my husband’s family has ranched for 5 generations.


  1. Cathy says:

    That is too funny! I have to say though, better a beaver than a big cat…..can only imagine how you would have referred to that. ;)

  2. Chad Brown says:

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