– by Dana Waite –
Deer are here and there but not everywhere. I know this because whenever I visit a garden and its caretaker I always ask The Question: “Do you have deer?” It’s true that in some locales around Victoria and Sidney, those controversial critters have not left their hoof marks or excrement or ragged and torn remnants of a plant, but to list where they do reside would use my entire allotment of 450 words!
Of course, some say they (whose name mustn’t be mentioned lest they hear and come over for dinner) have always been here. This fact creates an argument of entitlement in the everlasting issue of what to do with the unmentionable creatures. However, like many facts, there is often another that is exactly opposite. Without entitlement as an excuse, there are many suggestions for dealing with those pesky consumers of fine vegetation cuisine.
The latest I’ve heard was from a community that built a semi-enclosed area surrounding enticing tasty morsels that attracted those slender, long-legged vermin into the enclosure. Once in, life as they knew it was no longer and locals feasted on venison chops. Oh, I can hear the outrage!
Now, I’ve been gardening since I was knee high to a grasshopper. I’ve gardened in spaces no bigger than a wheelbarrow and have grown tomatoes the size of footballs. I’ve also stood weeping in the middle of my devoured pea patch after an early morning visitation from those munching marauders. In an aggressive counterattack, my plants have been sprayed with ghastly stinking concoctions that claimed to … need I say more? How many times have I heard: “Well, have you tried blah, blah, blah? It worked like a hot damn for me!”
After thousands of dollars worth of my lovingly cared for plants ending up in the tummies of cute herbivores, I bit the bullet, so to speak, and built a fence. After extensive reading and studying the habits of the monsters, this fence is seven feet tall. It’s made of heavy-duty black plastic netting and the manufacturer guaranteed its ability to protect my garden.
It works. And it doesn’t stink.
I can now sleep at night knowing that the bodacious broccoli, luscious lettuce and pendulous pea pods will be there in the morning for me, and not the deer, to eat. The roses will be there for all to smell and revel in their exquisite beauty. Take that, you marauding, munching ubiquitous deer.
The story is yet to be told; however, about the myriad of gaping holes that were eaten through the bottom of the supposedly-impervious fence by a rabid pack of bunny rabbits. “Is there no end?” she wailed.
