Fossil Abstenance: Food Wars

As I approached a dark shadow among bright tomato leaves I first saw her eye watching me. I had watered these plants in the greenhouse for four months and this dark silhouette was out of place. Clinging spread-eagle on the trellis holding the tomato vines was a large woodchuck. I moved away slowly, turned off the water, grabbed a metal stake, eased back and tried to impale this unmoving ogre but succeeded only in knocking her off her perch.  She scurried 50 feet into her hole, too fast for me to intercept and once again avoided the trap I had set weeks ago near her entrance. If only our dog, Shep, were alive!

“Guess what I saw in the greenhouse today?” I asked my wife that evening.

“Another giant snapping turtle?” she said. A few months before, a snapping turtle had wandered into the greenhouse, looking for a place to lay her eggs. I had relocated her some miles away from our pond to give the bass and catfish we eat a better chance to grow quickly. Snappers remove food from the chain that supports what we rely on.

“No, this time it was a large woodchuck – and she was climbing on the vines, eating tomatoes!” I said.

“How do you know it’s a she?”

“She was hanging on the fence with her whole belly exposed – which had shiny nipples – so she’s nursing little chucks!” I said.

“You’d better catch her before she eats everything.”

In rural areas, gardens become fortresses designed to keep critters out. Animals disregarding these boundaries sometimes become dinner.  But only if they’re caught, or shot. Because guns are noisy, make a mess, and hunting takes a lot of time, our preferred tools are five live traps, wire mesh cages with one or two entrances that slam closed when an animal trips the trigger. Traps are more patient than humans. They will sit there for days, even weeks. These most often catch young animals. Wiser animals either avoid these contraptions because traps look scary or never see others again who were stuck inside one. Cats, minks, weasels, painted turtles, toads and frogs we let go right away because they don’t compete for our food. Young bunnies, woodchucks, and chipmunks, skunks and raccoons we usually transport and release a few miles away. Rats, mice and other rodents we plant in the garden. We eat squirrel and rabbit meat and bury what we don’t eat.

A few of our neighbors also eat critters, though some call us when they catch a rabbit that they know we’ll take off their hands. One of our daughters told us she since saw a lady in her 80s dragging a snapping turtle by a rope around its neck. A classmate, who lived across the street, reported that her family had seen their neighbor dragging turtles home before – to make them into stew that lasts her a week. I’d sure like a photo of her dragging a 25 pound snapper. They’re even difficult for me to handle.

Over the years we’ve learned to minimize damage to our crops but periodically an animal surprises us. We no longer grow sweet potatoes or yams because we can’t stop rodents from snipping off the tops and devouring the tubers, killing the plants. Mice nibble about a tenth of the crop of regular potatoes but never decapitate the vines.

Keeping deer at bay is difficult. Unless confronted by a seven foot fence, they enjoy the buffet of salad greens and broccoli they assume we plant just for them. They are impossible to catch so we have to wait until hunting season to enjoy our veggies in the form of organic, free-range venison – not a bad option.

Except for hornworm caterpillars, fauna don’t like tomatoes. The large green worms with tails used to be very hard for us to find among the foliage until we learned that they hate water. Simply spraying cold water on plants that have chomped leaves make these sphinx moth larvae shake the front half of their body back and forth. It’s then easy to catch them and feed them to fish.

Squash, cucumbers and asparagus each attract their own species of insects that must be picked off to minimize damage. Cabbages, broccoli and related plants attract cabbage butterflies, small white fliers that come every year. Although there are organic pesticides that work well, we usually tolerate a few nibbled leaves and pick the green worms off the produce during preparation. If you miss a few it’s even easier to pick out caterpillars after they are cooked because they turn yellow and stand out against the greens. Since I do the cooking, I do this at the stove so picky eaters never see them. Luckily, onions, garlic, basil, oregano and other plants full of flavor grow well without protection.

Caterpillars that burrow inside fruit also damage crops like peppers, corn, pears and apples. Since they are typically quite small, they don’t do much damage unless there are very many of them. Sometimes their tunnels introduce bacteria, but processing fruit that has signs of distress saves most of it.

Together, Shep and I were great warriors. Before this Shetland Sheepdog passed away three years ago, we not only caught rabbits, woodchucks and squirrels but many, many birds. I chased rabbit and woodchuck intruders around the fenced interior of our gardens while she ran around the outside, barking furiously. This combination usually confused animals enough either for me to grab them by the hind legs or Shep by their necks as they squeezed under the fence. Now, without her, they usually get away by bolting under or catapulting over the waist-high fence. Shep’s daughter Tess, who passed away a few weeks ago, never figured out why she should ever chase an animal.

Berries are another story. We grow enough raspberries, blackberries, currents, gooseberries and grapes so that, if we pick diligently, we collect more than half. Blueberries are different. They ripen one by one over an extended period enabling birds to snatch every one. As they redden to blue, half a dozen feathered species work hard to gobble them all.  To avert this we surround blueberry bushes with fencing and arch netting over the top. Still, a few birds get in – but find no way out. Years ago, Shep would run interference around the fence, and birds would hardly notice me inside. They didn’t seem to know that the fence stops the dog, and would fly into my hands. This commotion ended in my telling the bird that if it gets into our blueberry enclave one more time, it’ll be baked in a pie. Either not understanding my tirade or, more likely, addicted to blueberries, some return. One year I cut a toenail off every captured bird – and I captured one missing four nails within a few weeks. But random birds eating blueberries hardly affect our harvest so we let them go with a warning. If a kid is around, we let them have the thrill of holding, then releasing these interlopers.

If raccoons or foxes attack our sweet corn too vigorously we set up an electric fence around the corn patch that discourages even the most persevering interloper. This electronic fencer can produce one inch sparks and charge miles of wire so it really commands respect on a small plot of corn. We didn’t use it this year but had to discourage a family of raccoons last year in order for us to secure enough sweet corn for eating fresh and freezing 50 pounds for the winter.

This summer we had only Tess for canine crop protection. We selected her dad as a sire so Shep’s offspring would do well in 4-H dog shows. We didn’t know that perfect confirmation doesn’t necessarily result in a competent working dog. Shep’s one litter produced a single puppy, Tess, who was beautiful, obedient, and won ribbons, but had no clue how to worry, or catch critters. She’d watch me chase birds around the blueberry enclosure and couldn’t care less about what I was doing. And she certainly wouldn’t get involved. Now, she too is gone. The same pancreatic disease that took Shep also did her in. They both died in their eleventh year and we miss them both.

*****

“So when are you getting a puppy?” one daughter asks. She lives in Boston and every time we talk this question comes up. During all four decades with our three daughters we’ve always had a dog. It seems they can’t understand us living without one. Or visiting us without a dog to cuddle and play with.

“We’ll accept a dog that adopts us – but we have never had to look for an animal,” I say. Our dogs, cats, sheep, rabbits, Guinea pig and chickens all appeared or were rescued. And we enjoyed and took very good care of them. Not that we accepted every animal offered: we wouldn’t take a horse, or a cow. They’re just too large. And goats? Too frisky and they enjoy jumping up on vehicles!

“ I think you should get an Australian Shepherd,” our youngest said.

“I’ve heard they’re a lot of work.”

“Not as much as our neighbor’s border collie, but you need a dog to keep you in shape. You complained that as Shep and Tess got older they were just too slow. You won’t ever have to drag an Aussie along when jogging.”

“It’s true. I’d run more if I had a dog to keep me company, or to tire out.”

“And what about chasing herons? You need a dog for that now that we’re not there!”

These large birds are amusing. Because we stock our pond and feed fish, we chase away blue and green herons that settle in to eat small animals along the edges of the pond. When our kids were young, one of their jobs was chasing these birds away, an effort that made a two-year old feel invincible. The terrorized birds never looked back. Eagles, though, we tolerate. There are only a few and we’ve never seen one catch a fish. A young eagle will hover over the pond and dive, only to get soaked and splash to shore to dry off. After a few misses they fly away. They never earned a white head at our pond. On the other hand, kingfishers always get their minnow, but we don’t mind losing a few. They’re not on our menu.

Seed-eating birds are also a problem. Crows can pull up a whole row of sprouting corn to swallow germinating kernels. Sparrows love mature peas, beans and sunflowers and can quickly reduce pods, ears and heads to shambles. We can save seeds for planting the following years by enclosing a few seed heads in mesh bags or by growing them inside a cage or the greenhouse. Flocks of birds also harvest grains and mustard when we plant small patches so we’ve given up trying to grow these.

Not all animals eat what we grow. Snakes and toads help reduce slug populations while many types of birds glean caterpillars and other insects from crops. Hawks and owls catch rodents. We see bobcats once in awhile but have never witnessed one catching a meal. Many nights we hear coyotes yipping but they rarely let us see them. Every year we strategize on how to produce enough food so that we end up with what we need, recognizing that critters will try and eat what they can. We’re happy as long as we get at least half and don’t have to spend too much time discouraging competition.

****

“Whatever happened to that woodchuck in the greenhouse?” asked my wife.  “It’s been more than a month and you haven’t mentioned catching her”.

“I’ve had three traps set the whole time, and, although I’ve had to reset them a few times when they were tripped but empty, but I never got her.”

“Did she eat everything?”

“She must have left – and now either rats or squirrels are attacking the tomatoes – it’s always something!”