Hurricane Scout

As if the rains and scorching heat weren’t enough … Hurricane Scout apparently hit my spaghetti squash vines this evening and harvested the biggest squash for herself:

I was laughing too hard to yell at her. Fortunately, she really didn’t get down to the meat of it, so I think it will still be salvageable if I cut off the parts she chewed and bake it in a hot oven.

This is fairly typical of Scout, really. When we lived in Belleville, the garden wasn’t fenced, and she spent the entire summer running around with green fur, because we had an understanding: Any split tomatoes within her reach were fair game. She would rummage around among the vines, searching for treats, every time we let her out. The first summer we were in Oklahoma, I planted some late tomatoes, but they got too much shade and too little water and produced only one tomato. It was about a day from being ripe enough to pick when Scout apparently got desperate and violated the terms of our agreement, swiping the perfectly healthy, perfectly intact fruit right off the vine and wolfing it down while I tried to yell at her between peals of uncontrollable laughter.

Ornery little cuss….

Emily

 

 

 

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