Garden view
Cats are the bane of Emma Doughty’s gardening life. She shares tips for poop-free beds
My garden smells like roses in summer, or at least it should do. I’m afraid the pervading pong is something far less savoury. The problem is purring pests – feline fiends who delight in hopping over the fence to leave their deposits in my lovely, freshly tilled soil. Indoors, I quite like cats. Outdoors, they instantly morph into my furry gardening nemesis.
There’s no mistaking the smell of fresh cat poo. It’s worst in summer, of course, when its fragrance can lead you straight to the chosen toilet area. It’s harder to find these ‘gifts’ in winter when the cold weather dampens down the aroma, but easier to clean them up when you do locate them. Poopsicles don’t stick to your trowel. But the final straw for any gardener is discovering that one of the marauding moggies is suffering from a nasty bout of diarrhoea.
Now, there are various solutions on offer for the gardener who wants to keep their garden cat-free, and I think it’s fair to say I’ve tried them all. A quick squirt with a water pistol works wonders, but the cat isn’t deterred – it just comes back when you’re not around.
Tossing a stale bagel down the garden like a frisbee certainly gives intruders a shock, but you’ll end up fetching it later because they don’t rot down for months.
I’ve yet to meet a cat that is in any way intimidated by a sprinkling of lion poop, but they do seem to be offended by the smell of the ‘scaredy cat’ plant (Coleus canina). The problem is that their effect is noticeably short-range, so you’d have to ring the garden with these tender annuals. And they don’t smell that nice to humans, either.
Employing an army of mulches to cover bare soil is helpful, and cuts down on watering, too. But cats will find any chink in the armour, so you do have to keep topping them up. Coffee drinkers can cover desecrated spots in coffee grounds to disguise the smell and discourage a repeat performance, but although you may find you enjoy the aroma of coffee in the morning, its effect is short-lived.
You can use prickly branches, or short sticks pushed into the ground, to prevent cats crouching over your seedlings, but thorns and stakes present a hazard to the gardener too.
Motion-activated sonic deterrents work miracles – if you can target them so that they cover all routes into the garden. And unless you splash out for the mains-powered devices, they only work until their batteries run out. The frequencies they send out are inaudible to humans, yet their whining is distinct enough to annoy me when I’m gardening!
I’ve found that a six-foot fence stops fatter cats but is no deterrent to frisky youngsters. And there are always frisky youngsters: as one cat ages, so another kitten appears in the neighbourhood. The next step is to fortify the top of the fence with rubbery spikes, which make it impossible for cats to use it as a walkway without doing them any damage.
If, like me, you’ve tried all these things and are still losing the battle, you might now be at the point where you’re contemplating installing automatic gun turrets armed with SuperSoaker water cannons, razor wire and security lights. Or redesigning the garden, so it’s all concrete and astroturf. But before throwing in the trowel, it’s worth considering that if you can’t beat them, you might as well join them. The ultimate deterrent, I’ve heard, is to get a cat of your own. Or better still, a dog. ✿
A six-foot fence stops fatter cats but is no deterrent to frisky youngsters