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The Accused

2011 Insane Gardener Summer Series

Two weeks ago I found holes and scratch marks in one of our square foot gardens.  Three recently planted Quadrato D’Asti Giallo heirloom peppers lay on top of the ground; their tender white roots dried into toothpicks for Barbies.
I stomped to the compost pile, looking side to side for the culprit. On the way back, I spotted him sprawled on a patio chair. I picked him up and lugged him to the kitchen, scolding, “Thai, that's it. You made a bad kitty choice and you’re staying in the house.”

After Thai was plopped on the floor, he rubbed against my leg and purred. He’s the sweetest of our three Siamese, but not the smartest.  I showed him the litter box as a reminder to relieve himself in gravel, not vegetables.

“Who’re you talking to?” RJ asked.

“Thai. He can’t go outside anymore. He’s using the square foot garden for a litter box.”

“How do you know?”

“There are holes.”
“They could be from anything...dog, possum, armadillo.”

“A dog would’ve trampled more than a couple plants. A ‘dillo would’ve dug more than three holes and there are scratch marks, like when a cat covers their pee and stuff.”
“Did you look for the stuff?”
“I don’t toil in the soil for poop. Besides, don’t you remember last year? We caught him repeatedly using the hosta garden for his litter box?”
RJ sighed, patted Thai’s head. “Sorry buddy, you’ll have to suffer in the air conditioning with me.”
This morning I looked out the bay window in the dining room and spotted new holes in two of the square foot gardens. Thai jumped up beside me, tail twitching. We stared at each other. “Whoops,” I whispered.

I repaired the damage to the garden in the rain. I’d just finished drying the hem of my jeans with the hair dryer when I decided to get a glass of tea. A movement outside the kitchen window caught my eye.
“Squirrel!”  I shouted and ran for the door. I changed direction and ran for my cell phone. I snapped three pictures before the shotgun bait got away.

The culprit of Jules' garden damage.I had my cell phone in hand when RJ strolled in from his afternoon show. I greeted him with a fake sincere smile, the kind I wear when I pretend I’m sorry I was wrong.
“I’ve got fantastic news,” I said.


“Thai can go outside again.”

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Jubilant Thai-I can hear the

Jubilant Thai-I can hear the meow. What about a fence Jules? We have one and it makes a great difference to keeping out the unwanted visitors in our patch of garden for veg. Poor kitty- don't you feel at least a little bad? ha ha. m

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Yes, I feel bad; very guilty. I'm a terrible kitty mommy.

We're thinking of fencing in the garden. I'm thinking a batting cage...