Teresa: "I was still in my work clothes but fortunately had switched into my sneakers in the car. As I got to within ten feet of the garden I noticed a woodchuck at the far edge. I clapped my hands and yelled at him but he didn't move. Woodchucks usually run away, but this one started running right at me. All I had with me was a small trowel and the broccoli plants. There was a metal tomato cage with three flimsy legs on the ground so I grabbed that and swiped at the woodchuck. He rolled over but came at me again. I couldn't get to my car. He would have caught me, so I kept swiping and tumbling him over. When he paused for a few seconds, I ran onto the porch. I could try to get the hidden house key but what good would that do? The phone was disconnected.
"The woodchuck came charging up the two steps to the porch. I swiped again and flipped him into a flower box. He landed on his back. I used the cage to flip him out onto the lawn. By the way, I was screaming as loud as I could hoping to scare off the woodchuck or attract the neighbor's attention. The neighbor farms the land and I saw his pickup by the shed. But then I heard his tractor and knew he wouldn't hear me.
"By now the woodchuck seemed dazed and was wandering off towards the garage. 'Oh, crap', I thought. I had left the entry door to the garage open and he was headed that way. I ran after him and he veered off into the woods. My chest hurt from screaming and I felt traumatized. I left the broccoli at the farm for someone else to plant and called my brother-in-law to come and shoot the thing."
Chairman Joe hearby awards Teresa the Courage Medal for standing up to the presumed rabid woodchuck. When she got home that day, still distraught from her ordeal she said, "If I had a Zanax right now, I'd take it." She had to settle for a glass of wine and a hug. She had also acquired a good story.
Postscript. The man who mows at the farm was warned of the woodchuck, and the next day put it out of its misery.