Garden view
The local squirrels have got their eye on Andrea Blackie’s tulip bulbs… but she’s got a cunning plan to thwart them
Squirrels have taken a shine to Andrea Blackie’s tulip bulbs, so she’s potting up by stealth
Hiding in the tiny hallway just behind my front door, it occurs to me that I must look a bit odd. I’ve been here for the past hour, crouched in the most private corner of my flat, well out of sight of any windows. But I’m not plotting some dark and deadly deed, I’m planting up my pots with new bulbs for next spring, and I don’t want the squirrel to see me doing it.
My garden’s very small, just a 6x10ft paved area with a few planting pockets, so I do a lot of gardening in containers. Only a few weeks ago the pots were still in summer mode, with a prolific ‘Tumbling Tom’ tomato plant, some tasty purple dwarf French beans and a slightly straggly basil (my less-than-successful first attempt at growing herbs from seed). Then suddenly the weather cooled, days got shorter and the last vegetables had to be harvested. In a final burst of gardening enthusiasm, I dug up the plants and composted them. Then it started to rain and procrastination kicked in. Foolishly, I left the pots sitting where they were on the patio, still full of old compost, waiting for a moment when I’d have the time and motivation to plant them up with bulbs.
Big mistake. A few days later, I came home from work to find the pots all churned up, with compost scattered far and wide. I soon saw why: our nut-crazed local squirrel was rootling frantically through my patio pots, desperately trying to find something he hadn’t buried there in the first place.
I realised I’d better plant up the pots pronto, to hide all that tempting compost. But as I stepped outside, bulbs and trowel in hand, I had the strong feeling I wasn’t alone. I looked up and sure enough, the squirrel was beadily eyeballing me from a nearby tree.
What to do? Fill up my pots with an ‘all-you-can-eat’ buffet of tasty squirrel snacks while Tufty looks on, licking his lips? I can just see the outcome – my beautifully planted pots with their contents upended, and squirrel-sized tooth marks in all the bulbs.
When in doubt, ask Google. There’s no shortage of tips online as to how to stop squirrels digging in pots. Some people swear by scattering cayenne pepper over the compost, but I’m a bit of a wimp when it comes to food that hurts when you eat it, so I don’t have the heart to do it, even to a thieving rodent. Others bury plastic forks, prongs upwards, in the compost, but buying a pack just to deter a squirrel doesn’t seem a very eco-friendly solution. Covering my pots with chicken wire would make my little patio feel more like Shawshank prison yard. And realistically, if I wait until I’ve got around to buying plastic forks or chicken wire, the bulbs will never get planted. So, I’m going with the theory that what the squirrel’s eyes don’t see, its little squirrelly heart won’t lust after. And that’s why I’m here, crouched in a dark corner of my flat, sneakily planting up my pots with bulbs for spring before I put them back outside. I’ve planted violas and primroses on top as a disguise, with a gravel mulch for added camouflage, and with a bit of luck, the squirrel will never know what it’s missing. ✿
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What the squirrel’s eyes don’t see, its little squirrelly heart won’t lust after