That Darn Cat

I just planted Blue Lake green beans this morning in anticipation of a sunny weekend. I didn't soak them because the ground is already thoroughly soaked thanks to 4 days of incessant rain.

While I was gardening, I had a visitor. A cat wandered into our backyard. I know this cat. She belongs to the neighbor and is, for lack of a better term, a free-range cat. She roams the neighborhood night and day, playing in other neighbor's yards, entering their homes whenever the opportunity arises, hiding out in garages.

I really don't mind this cat hanging out in my back yard. What I do mind, however, is when she jumps into my garden bed where my baby seeds have been planted.

Because I know what she is planning to do in my soft, turned soil. She wants to poop.

Some animal poop like chicken or steer is considered a fabulous fertilizer. I don't know if that is the case with cat. And even if it is, I just don't care.

I don't want cat poop in my vegetable garden!

As soon as this little cat jumped up into the garden I began an assault of the senses to drive her away: I chased her, clapped my hands, brandished my hoe menacingly, and sternly said, "No! Out of the garden!"

She had me right where she wanted me.

If she only knew that what I really wanted to do was pick her up and throw her over the fence.

OK, more like "toss."

Instead I carried her, gently, out of my yard and shut out behind the garden gate.

She came back.

Five times.

And every time, she'd jump right up into my garden bed and look for a spot to start digging.

The nerve!

Why this cat has not been made into a coyote snack, I do not know. There have been indoor cats in the neighborhood who have met that fate, yet somehow this free range cat survives. And she wears a bell!

It's a mystery. A mystery that threatens to contaminate my food source.