There is a dark and murky presence in the gardening world. It is an organized and diabolical network that pervades each neighborhood, each yard, and each garden. It has the cutest eyes and bushiest tail you’ve ever seen. 

The other day I was walking to a garden and saw a black and white cat was having it out with a squirrel nearly its size. A cartoon-like ball of fur rolling through the dirt flashed before me until suddenly there was a calm as I came within 20 feet of the animals. The cat sat stone still staring right into my eyes; clutched between its teeth was the prone squirrel. I stood and watched as the squirrel’s frantic struggle slackened and slowed until it stopped completely. I slowly began walking again, and the cat, protective of its recent victory, watched me as I moved on. My emotions went from shock and queasiness to great respect for the cat. “Good cat,” I simply thought, “good cat.” 

The sentiment of warm joy at seeing a cat snuff out a squirrel may seem harsh or even evil, but I have my reasons. Squirrels have proven to be one of the peskiest and most difficult animals to deal with in the garden. 

I have one garden with six healthy tomato plants, all loaded with green tomatoes ready to ripen. However each week I came the tomatoes remained green, never ripening. I hoped that the Farmscape member was vigorously harvesting the tomatoes as they ripened, but I  later found they had yet to get one tomato. Just as the tomatoes would ripen, a squirrel, or squirrels (because there is a vast black market system of squirrel thieves and miscreants) would steal them off the vine and devour them while perched atop the fence: a defiantly mocking victory dance. 

In another garden, the local gang of squirrels has decided that the newly seeded and planted beds are the perfect place to enthusiastically dig and stash their acorns. Each week I return to find the tiny seedlings’ withering roots in the air, my wooden markers and labels strewn about, and starts leaning on their sides atop the soil pock marked. The derisive chatter in the trees as I painstakingly re-seed, re-smooth, and re-establish order tell me they enjoy my exercises in futility. This certain band of hoodlums specializes in ravishing the soil and yet leaves the plethora of ripe tomatoes untouched. 

From garden to garden the issues that the squirrels create are different, and in some places it’s as if the squirrels have no interest at all. Like the Mafia, each family has domain over a certain racket. However once the bounty is discovered, the desecration begins. 

My best defense so far is staking the perimeter of the raised bed and forming a perimeter with bird netting. The tangle prone material has proved mostly effective but nowhere near impenetrable. In the case of the disappearing tomatoes, I had completely wrapped a Sun Gold but during the week the members saw a squirrel sitting in the center of the plant surrounded by netting, having his fill of the sweet delights. My following visit included a bitter shoring up of the netted fortress, which has allowed the members to enjoy delicious sun ripened tomatoes while the furry marauders look on. 

My vengeful feelings toward the bushy tailed rodents are not without repercussions. This vast organization of squirrels has spread the word and started training their youth to come after me. 

At the end of my workweek, I was dropping off supplies at our storage area, and suddenly a small squirrel voraciously charged at me. I jumped in surprise and sidestepped out of the way. It turned and made another run, obviously wanting to sink its cute claw tipped paws and grinning incisors into my ankles. I ran but was relentlessly pursued. I jumped up into a raised bed and it leaped wildly after me. For 10 minutes this tiny adorable squirrel chased this high-stepping, shrieking grown man around the yard. 

I finally trapped it under a cardboard box, and called animal control; it had to be rabid or a bubonic plague carrier. The official word was that the squirrel was “just trying to make friends.” 

But I know what this means. Not only is the underground network of squirrels coming after me; they have made friends in the government!  As their sophistication and power grows I will have to abandon my weak netting and call in the FBI, Feline Bureau of Intimidation.