Saturday, May 31, 2008


I have a thief in my garden. I came home the other day and ran outside to pick the biggest, reddest tomato growing so far in my garden. It was bigger than my fist and was hanging so nicely just that morning. I thought, "this tomato will be perfect to pick when I get home from work." So, I ran outside and it was disappeared. At first, I thought it just fell off the vine because it was so gigantic (it really was that big). But I looked down, around, on the side of the plant and nothing! I looked on my lawn, in the pond, in the basket near the door...maybe it walked out of the garden all on it's own. Nope. Gone. Disappeared. MIA.

Then, I turn on my dog. My dog who has been loyal to me for the past 12 years...I immediately blame her. I look her in the eyes hoping to catch a glimpse of the guilt that Nerina has when she's done something wrong and has been caught. Nope, no guilty look. I open her mouth, check her teeth, smell her breath. Again, nothing. No sign of the deep red tomato skin in her teeth or in her gums.

Then, I go back to the garden thinking I missed something obvious (footprints, paw prints, snake, mouse, something) when I notice that the pink/red little pear tomatoes were also missing! Yup, I have a tomato bandit!!! Not only that, but one of my little zebras was torn off the vine and half-eaten by, what looks like, a human. By the teeth marks on the poor little zebra, I could tell it was a little person (small man, woman, or child...everyone is guilty).

I suppose I shouldn't care...I was just thinking I had too much to eat all by myself. But, I wish they could have left me the big one. The first tomato on that vine. They could have had the rest. Isn't there thief etiquette? Shouldn't they have known?

1 comment:

Darrell Crowther said...

My husband and I have started watching our old X-Files episodes - in preparation for the movie in July!!!! - and your story would be the perfect opener. Except, that it would end up being an alien or some regenerating pod creature who was stealing your tomatoes...

Sorry. I let my imagination get away with me...