Sunday, August 27, 2006

Tomato Thieves

Back in the 60's and 70's I was a woman hunter before it was fashionable for women to hunt. My brother and I spent many happy moments in the woods hunting the big ones.

I have always loved watching wildlife but now it is time to break out the 308. I had put in away after I had two back surgeries but with the following tale you can understand why I am dusting it off.

For several years I had a small fenced in garden on the side of the house and like most farm girls delighted in growing vegetables and when they were in abundance giving them away to friends and neighbors. The deer discovered my garden a couple of years back and this was very evident by their hoof prints in the soil and my jalepeno plants eaten.

The next year after the deer discovered the garden, I started just planting tomato but I put them out by the back porch. With them being closer to the house, I was given the false impression that the deer would leave them alone. Not.

I pulled out the bird netting which I had used to cover my cherry trees until they became too tall for me to cover and surrounded my plants with the netting. For two years this worked and I was patting myself on the back for thinking of the netting.

Since Sundays are truly a day of rest for this early bird, I was downstairs watching a marathon of old "Tammy" movies, when to my surprise there was a doe just outside the window in my tomato plants. This was only 30 feet from where I was sitting in our family room. I was horrified to see her gobbling down my plants.

The hooved rat as I like to call them, had eaten all the ripe and the green tomatoes and was working on chewing down the plants. In haste I got up and ran outside yelling "get out of here".
First, she just looked at me and then I waved my arms and repeated the message. She jumped over the netting which she had pushed down and ran to the end of the porch. She just stood there looking at me as if to say "Are you going back inside so I can finish my meal"

At this point I was seeing red so I ran down the porch yelling "I said get out of here". Finally, she turned up her white tail and headed for the pasture. After she jumped the fence, I went to survey the damage and I have tolerated them eating my hostas but to knock down my bird netting to eat my tomato was an unthinkable act of War.

Come fall we will have a venison feast as I plan to put the ole 308 back to work.

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