For most of my life I’ve been solidly indifferent to the behaviors of burrowing animals but on March 20 the border between the USA and Canada closed and since then I have been researching the tunneling techniques of groundhogs, prairie dogs, rabbits and gophers, with a dedication that is only marginally sane. I’m looking forward to two things: to stop envying gophers, and to fund a think-tank that develops a powerful, yet silent, sex toy. I’m an American living alone in Canada and I’m in love with someone who lives in Los Angeles, three time zones and a continent-width away. What used to be an expensive inconvenience has lately become an unconsidered impossibility. Over halting FaceTime video, we wonder when we’ll touch each other. Weeks? Months? I’ve learned a lot about burrowing mammals. For example Great gerbils are not gerbils who are well-behaved or perform cool tricks on their tiny wheels; they are a distinct species with complex and communal burrows. Their tunnels are so large they’re seen in satellite imagery and they have separate areas for nesting and food storage. It’s anthropomorphizing, I know, but they seem homey and partner oriented. Many of my friends are having trouble with their partners. In small apartments or large homes, they have forgotten how to be teammates with their mates. They call and complain about fights and tense dinners where the only sound is silverware scraping the plate. I listen and try to be supportive but I’m actually charging my vibrator again and rereading the Wikipedia page on Great gerbils and thinking, but you have someone to scratch your head, and when I say scratch your head, that’s not what I mean, that’s not the itch that needs to be met. Most burrowing animals dig with their teeth but my gums are sensitive, so at night I walk into the front yard of my apartment complex and dig small holes, making notes about the earth-moving capacity of ladles and wooden spoons. Los Angeles is 3,980.49 kilometers away. How many miles is that? Been in Canada too long. I don’t have enough spoons, but I’ve heard of an underground reseller network on Amazon. If you have money, you can buy your way out of a crisis. When the social distancing is over, I predict a baby boom and a spike in divorce rates. People will emerge from houses and maybe hurl their hoarded toilet paper into trees and I will stop night-digging long-distance tunnels. I will clean the dirt from under my nails, put on actual pants, and fly over the border, land in a sunny place, and burrow into my love. Schlocky? Absolutely. After we have scratched each others’ heads, I will head to Silicon Valley in search of venture capital because no matter how far I tunnel under my covers, the sex toy noise is loud. So loud it might sound like a family of Great gerbils running to escape their burrow, hoping to let the sun shine on their tired teeth.