First it’s the birds. Then it’s the squirrels.
But–I was not ready for this, dear reader, oh no, not ready for this.
The lovely tomato I’ve been watching for weeks, waiting for it to ripen:
Finally started ripening. The past two days, it’s turning golden on its way to red!
But just now I found it–MURDERED.
Four ounces of Early Girl goodness, and it did not take Sherlock to figure out the culprit. It did not take microscopic evidence, nor did it take puncture wound analysis, nor did it take bloody juice-spatter experts because–
I found the murderer in the act.
First she went after birds, and then it was the squirrels, and you know? That’s all right. Because that’s what dogs do.
But, in the words of Molly Weasley:
“Not my tomato, bitch!”
It will take me awhile to get over this.
*note good dog in background: