Never have I experienced such destruction and absolute disregard for my cherished flower gardens as I have this summer. And we’re only a few days into summer. Sigh.
First it was D.O.G. the pig chomping my flower beds near the house. He was dainty at first, just nibbling blossoms and leaving me the dirt and naked stems still in box shapes from their original containers, yanked from the ground, and scattered about for easy replanting.
I almost gave him credit for being thoughtful. That lasted all of two days.
After blessing and replanting over a dozen box shapes, I barricaded the beds with big logs. That ungrateful, thoughtless pig plowed through the barricades and tore up entire beds, flinging dirt and returning to the porch with a snout black and rich with fermented horse poo, garden soil and mushroom compost. His favorite blend, apparently.
Next came the deer. We busted them at dawn the other morning, grazing down the flowers I had so joyfully planted near the pond.
“Your heads will be hanging above the mantle,” I shouted, as they jumped the fence and loped ever so gracefully away. I believe there were still zinnias dangling from their chops.
So what’s a farm chick to do but savor her lily pads. They may be my last hope for some beauty among the beasts. Never to be picked, chomped, mauled or grazed.