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This is the story of Allen Street Al

Harry Kresge and his friend Lazaro Rodillo watched as Allen Street Al loped off through the tall grass on Lazaro's farm. The groundhog stopped for a second to look back at them, then turned and ran off toward the road.

"I hope he doesn't get hit," Lazaro said.

"Yeah, me too," said Harry. "I kinda like the little fella. That's why I couldn't shoot him."

Harry had been trying to trap the young groundhog for weeks, but kept catching the same racoon. By the time he caught Al, the racoon was so tame that he would have to wake him up in order to get him out of the catch-and-release trap. First he had tried apples as bait, but raccoons love apples. The he tried cantaloupe, something he picked up from the internet. By the time he tried that, the trap wasn't working too good and Al ate the melon and left.

The bait that finally sealed Al's fate was chicken feed. He had become accustomed to going into the chicken coop and helping himself. The chickens didn't seem to mind. They would even stay in their boxes and lay, while he was dining. Harry would watch him from the house. Al was comfortable but cautious. He would take a few mouthfuls, then look out the door to see if anyone was coming. Whenever Harry would step out onto the back deck, Al would head for the bushes.

The problem was that Al had tunneled down next to the foundation of Harry's house. Harry tried several times to fill in the holes, but the next day they would either be reopened or reappear a few feet away. They were right near the laundry room window. Many was the time that Al and Harry stared at each other through the double pane glass. And Harry watched the little guy grow, bigger and fatter all the time, on his chicken feed.

Harry had asked Lazaro for permission to drop him off at his place, should he ever catch him. Lazaro was delighted to play a role in the illegal relocation of the wild beast, but when he heard that Harry had caught a racoon, he said, "Oh, no! Not around here. Not a racoon. Before you know it, he will be in my garbage."

Harry feared that this meant that he had withdrawn his offer to let him release the groundhog on his property. But when he called to announce the capture Lazaro was gleeful at the prospect being part of his release. "Bring him over!" he shouted through the phone.

Harry was nervous driving through town with his illegal catch in the back of the old station wagon. With my luck, I'll get stopped for failing to signal or something, he thought. He drove carefully, hoping that no one would look into the back of the Green Hornet, while he was stopped at a light or backed up in traffic.

His heart sank as he arrived at Lazaro's driveway. It seemed that his friend had invited half the town to watch the show. Lazaro was holding court. "Here he is now," he announced, "the illegal trapper of animals!" Al was put on display, and soon the audience had had enough and drove off. Then Lazaro's troublesome neighbor pulled in, but soon she was gone and they drove the wagon out to the back of the farm and got ready to open the trap.

"Which way do they generally go when released?" Lazaro asked. "Toward us or away?"

"Don't worry. They don't want any part of us," Harry assured him.

And sure enough, once the door was opened, Al stuck his nose out as if to taste freedom, then stepped out and trotted off, away from his tormentors.

When Mona got home that night she seemed subdued, because she could no longer tease Harry about being outwitted by a groundhog.

"The guy at Tractor Supply told me you've got to take them at least five miles," Harry said.

"But it's not five miles to Lazaro's," she said. "Is it?"

"Nah, about a mile and a half or two at the most. But I read on the Internet that a mile is enough."

"What are you going to do if he comes back?" she asked.

"If he comes back, he can stay," Harry said. And he meant it. He missed the little fella already.

"Do you think we're going to have a warm night, tonight?" he asked.

Mona groaned.

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