I like wild things. At this house we feed birds and hummingbirds and our yard is full of weeds so fireflies flourish. But earlier this summer, a little terrorist prowled the deck, upending flowerpots, digging out bulbs, knocking over light fixtures.

We hauled out the have-a-heart trap to see what we would catch. Surely it was a raccoon or opossum, something large enough to perpetrate these crimes.

After just one night the trap had done its job. There was a varmint, all right … but it was chipmunk. How could this one little guy do all that damage? Maybe he had a partner in crime?

Doesn’t matter. Some questions have no answers. We quickly let the critter go in the common land. Less than an hour later I swear I saw the same guy running across the deck. It’s his home, too.