As I watched the squirrel scamper over the fence and away, I held my breath. Would Sol jump the snow shortened fence and take off after the squirrel? I did not relish running out and calling for him through our coyote filled woods. Sol is nine years old now, and either because he is weaker or wiser, did not attempt the leap. He slid back across the snow and came into the warm house. I sat drinking my coffee and thinking about fences.
I came across a picture recently of a beautiful garden that integrated the flowers and vegetables together seamlessly-- banks of daylilies next to rows of red romaine, etcetera. What were my thoughts? Not 'how beautiful' or ' I want to do that', but 'where the heck are the fences?' and 'how do they keep the rabbits away?'.
That garden must be in the city. When I lived in the city we had pigeons, but no rabbits. Here in the country we have everything but pigeons. I love being in the midst of all this wildlife, but the rabbits are hungry, and and they will eat the daylilies sometimes, and the romaine every time they can get to it.
There are commercial fields of vegetables down the street, and they are not fenced. But they are also so big that any chewing on the edges by rabbits or woodchucks has little effect on the total output.
I want to protect every leaf of lettuce in my small garden. I need fences around most of the vegetables, except the tomatoes, potatoes, and squash, which have distasteful (to the rabbits and woodchucks) fuzzy or thorny leaves.
For several years I used cheap chicken wire and bamboo stakes, but these didn't last long, and looked lousy. They were also easy for Sol to get over, and he has an appetite for beans and peas. Last spring I finally measured, planned, and installed a more substantial vegetable garden fence. It is a twenty foot square fence of green painted steel poles and three foot high green metal fencing around six raised beds. Then I laid newspaper, cardboard, and straw over the paths.
Now I can let myself into this enclosure and work on the garden while the hungry critters stay outside. Including Sol, who has learned to lie nearby waiting patiently for any green beans tossed his way-- and there are always a few that are a bit too tough for my taste, but not for his.