Dear Mr. Squirrel,
To say we don't have the greatest relationship is putting it mildly. Despite the fact there are hundreds of yards in the neighborhood for you to dig your holes and bury your peanuts (from the old lady down the way), you have chosen to do all your excavating in my garden pots this spring. I will be honest, this greatly bothered me when the plants were still young and developing. You've ruined a few carrots, damaged the raspberry plant's roots, and disrupted the basil plant.
As the days grew longer and the plants grew taller, I let my frustrations go. Hey, we all can forgive and forget.
But today, all my goodwill was destroyed. Gone for only three days, I returned to find cold-hard evidence that your holiday weekend feast was several patio tomatoes. We're not even talking nibbles. You devoured most of the tomatoes. And to rub it in my face, you hopped over to the Mr. Stripey tomato pot and dug a hole big enough to bury Jimmy Hoffa..... again.
So consider the truce over, my furry friend. You just purchased a one-way ticket to Youregonnadieville.
Sincerely,
Your Worst Nightmare: A Pissed-Off Produce Grower
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