For the first time ever, I wanted a BB gun. I wanted it bad. First it was the rabbit, the one with a head and back full of lumps, probably tumors. The four-foot chicken wire fence around the raised bed garden put an end to the rabbit(s) nibbling on peas and sunflower seedlings. I thought I was home free.
When the first tomato turned red, I wanted to leap for joy. When I checked it the next day, I wanted to find the critter that ate it. I suspected a raccoon, crawling up the trellis and reaching in to hold it firmly while she (he) took large bites out of both the giant Romas and the Russian Blacks.
I let go of my BB gun fantasy long enough to search the internet for another idea. I found a suggestion to sprinkle Epsom salts and black pepper around the garden. For good measure, I sprinkled pepper on the leaves and tomatoes, as well.
The carnage hasn’t stopped, but my efforts seem to slow the rate of loss. I’m picking the fruit when it begins to turn red and adding more pepper, as needed.