Well, let’s see this thing through to the very end, shall we? 😉
By Sheryl Normandeau
Offensive Tactic #3. 06/04/11. 19:17. Habanero peppers.
Forget the oft-advised cayenne pepper, one blogger insists. It’s not strong enough. Her reasoning is sound enough, I conclude, so I toodle off to the grocery store and pick a bag of scorching hot habaneros. (The woman selecting button mushrooms next to me keeps shooting withering glances at me as if I’m the most sadistic cook on the planet; her sympathies clearly lay with my husband). Chopping the peppers requires gloves and a keen air of hopefulness. I am convinced that this will work, I am convinced that this will work, I am convinced….
Field Report 4.0. 06/05/11. 07:34.
Forget the habaneros. Apparently hares have a yen for painfully spicy stir fries containing half my herb garden, my tender stands of Swiss chard, and certain pre-cut hot peppers.
Offensive Tactic #4. 06/05/11. 13:45. Cat hair and used cat litter.
I cough delicately to hide my embarrassment. “Mom, um, I need a bit of Miss Flossy’s used litter. And some hair from her brush.”
Mom doesn’t even blink. “No problem, dear,” she says. “Is this for a gardening project?”
Field Report 5.0. 06/06/11. 05:47.
Now, this is just getting insulting. In an act of complete defiance, my tormentors have left a generous pile of fresh bon bons right next to the cat litter I spread around the perimeter of my perennial bed. This battle is clearly escalating.
Offensive Tactic #5. 06/06/11. 10:36. Coyote urine.
Part of me wants to know how this particular product is, um, harvested and bottled, and part of me really thinks I should leave well enough alone. Many of my Internet sympathizers have sung its praises, however, and despite my flagging confidence in the efficacy of their suggestions, I go to the garden centre and purchase some eau d’coyote. As I pour the musky elixir into a spray bottle, I ponder the indignities I have endured so far on this quest to rid my garden of the marauding hare horde.
Field Report 6.0. 06/07/11. 08:56.
Surely, this is a marketing gimmick – either that, or I bought a bad batch. (It smells so awful I can’t tell if it’s turned and I ought to return it to the retailer). Undoubtedly, as they dined by moonlight on my asparagus and marigolds (also a “WILL NOT EAT” plant), my nemeses had a good chortle about the funny yellow liquid in the spray bottle. Me, I’m reduced to hysterics.
Offensive Tactic 6. 06/07/11. 15:59. The final straw.
“He who wishes to fight must first count the cost,” the same wise warrior wrote. He wasn’t kidding. Rottweiler puppies sure eat a lot of kibble.
Related posts: Operation Let-Your-Hare-Down (Part One).