Guys, let’s face it. It’s crunch time…have you put off buying a present for that significant other until now? Are you feeling the pressure? Unsure of what to buy her? Well, let me offer a suggestion: a nice fur coat. That’s correct, fur. In case you haven’t been keeping tabs on fashion trends, particularly on a global scale, fur is the new black. Just last month, for example, PETA activists “pied” (with a tofu pie, mind you—never mind the soybeans that were injured in the process) the editor-in-chief of Vogue magazine because she ran advertisements promoting fur products but refused to run PETA-sponsored anti-fur ads. And trust me, if it’s in Vogue magazine, it’s cool. If you saw the way I dressed, you’d understand. On a side-note, flannel jackets have also been rumored to be making a comeback, so 83.5% of MLC’s male population is soon to be in style. But anyways, gentleman, what will put that smile on her face more than when she opens up that box to find, much to her delight, a cozy, supple fur coat?

You might think that I am making this all up, but fur is really making a comeback. Perhaps a brief overview of the past thirty years is in order. You see, the real boom in the fur market was during the 1970s and 80s. Even here, around New Ulm and the surrounding areas, a little digging will uncover that everyone and their brother were running a trap line. Entire houses and even farms were bought solely from trapping muskrats. The most trouble a trapper might encounter was another trapper vying for dibs on the same muskrat slough or beaver lodge.

All of that changed with the ascendancy of the fanatical animal rights activist groups, such as PETA. Of course, these groups have mingled their emotions with an IQ of roughly half that of the animals they seek to “protect” until they overpopulate and die “en masse.” (Honestly, how can you take anyone seriously who really believes that milking cows hurts them?) Nevertheless, solid fact and reasoning notwithstanding, their “pity the poor helpless animal” (If you’ve ever encountered a cornered raccoon, you will know what I mean when I say that these critters are neither helpless, cute, or in any other way appealing) rhetorical antics succeeded and the sky fell out of the fur market. This was the story of the 1990s and the early years of the present millennium.

Today, however, there is good news for the fur market. China and Russia are gobbling up furs, and a few people in the United States have regained their senses and realized that PETA is ridiculous. And it couldn’t come at a better time, could it? I mean, let’s face it. It costs a whole lot more to go to MLC now than it did a few years ago. So let’s do some simple mathematics. Raising tuition + rising fur prices + little to no trapping pressure = an easy way to pay for school. That’s right, I will here forth publicly admit that I intend to pay for second semester in beaver pelts.

Beavers, of course, are no helpless, cuddly critters either. An adult may weigh seventy pounds and can easily deforest roughly two hundred acres of trees per night. Come on, have you ever really explored that beaver lodge? For about three miles downstream, you’ll notice half-eaten trees floating by; then when you arrive at the actual abode, you’ll notice a pile of trees that have remained uneaten for so long that they are inedible. It’s a waste! If you ever drive out of New Ulm past Hardee’s, take a look at the pond that is fenced in at the big intersection of highways 14 and 15. Just a few weeks ago a pair of beavers moved in, and, by the time that this is in print, they will have cut down every single tree within the bounds of the fence. Couple this ferocious destruction and defoliation similar to that which DDT did to Vietnam along with the fact that beavers have few natural predators in this area and you are left with an entirely tree-less New Ulm. And you think it’s ridiculously windy now. It’s time to control this population explosion, and obviously spaying and neutering ain’t gonna do it. Now, remember too that no one has been trapping these guys for years. It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? I mean, who wants to go for a romantic walk in treeless, barren Flandrau? How would you like New Ulm to look like the rest of the drive from Rochester to here?

And you, Lake Olsen, don’t think that you are in the clear. It could easily happen to you. Picture that pleasant walk, that lazy-dog-days-of-summer-spent-under-the-shade-oak, gone—viciously chewed to a pulp. You can’t tell me that President Olsen would be the only one outraged by the travesty a pair of beavers would impart on his little puddle. And you, lovers in the gazebo, don’t think for one moment that your cozy little hideaway would be safe, either. Those enormous orange teeth would sink into that lumber like a hot knife through butter. Your little gazebo would turn into toothpicks in a matter of just a few hours.

It’s time to reconsider our mathematics. Tuition costs are rising. Evil, vile, nasty unable-ever-to-be-satiated beavers, are multiplying. Fur is becoming more popular again. Beaver pelts are worth roughly $20 a piece this year (and this is really no joke). Yes, the fur trade—this is going to be my way of striking it rich.

Now, before you condemn me for cruelty, don’t be so quick to judge. What I am is greedy. After all, when I see a beaver cruising by, bent on gnawing off half of my leg that it thinks is a tree or chewing a hole through my canoe, I can’t help but imagine that critter as a $20 bill just waiting to slide out of the muddy water and into my pocket. All I have to do is throw a few traps out there and in no time I am going to be enjoying a life of luxury. And the next time you see a beaver, I want you to picture that monster as a nice, six-foot diameter, extremely warm and elegant blanket, or maybe a coat that will get even the most cold-blooded of you through the Minnesota winter. That will silence any twinge of the conscience or even the shrill cries of the beaver you have just trapped.

Maybe it’s not greed, as much as necessity, though. That tuition bill is due fairly soon, and I’d hate to be unable to pay it.

Did you know that New Ulm actually does have a fur trader that is still in business? He is located out on north Broadway between DQ and Runnings. It’s crunch time, guys. Need that coat NOW, before my beavers have made the lucrative transition from vicious tree-killer to plush coat? He’s the dude to see.

So guys, consider a lavish present for that special someone this holiday. She’ll appreciate it, Mr. Sonnenberg won’t have any reason to hunt me down, and you’ll be saving a few acres of forest, all in one. Now that’s a deal that you can sink your teeth into.

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