I hurried back into the house, uttering a phrase of apology to the universe and karma, because I surely meant that creature no ill will except I will not tolerate his presence in my garden. I will not have it. He was at least 5 inches long, fat with tomato leaves and a garden glutton if ever I saw one.
I grabbed my canning tongs, hurried back past the hens, into the garden, and up to that tomato plant. I plucked that juicy nasty morsel off my tomato plant and walked back through the gate where the hens were busily scratching and searching, and Gertie greeted me first, head cocked, rewarded when I presented her with the biggest green worm she'd ever seen. Steak, baby. She grabbed it and ran, the worm waving along like a flag to the other hens, and the race was on.
I didn't stay to watch them pick and peck the poor thing to pieces. I did feel a little guilty about that, but that's the risk you take when you eat my tomato plants. And so the plant I raised fed a green worm, who fed my hens, who will return the favor with nice, fresh eggs that will feed my family.
There is probably a reason Gertie is bigger than the others. As my husband says, Gertie is a sturdy girl.
Lol. Debbie I had to laugh at your story - it's great. I think we are soulmate sisters when it comes to killing/torturing Creepies. IMy sister, Kerry, is always making fun of me for throwing jar/tissue-caught spiders outside. Sometimes I even throw flies and ants out, too. It just feels too cruel to stamp them (or insanely hammer them dead - like Kerry - yuk!). Am enjoying your stories and recipes. Cheers, Sherry
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