No, life is not a bowl of cherries.

Sometimes it’s a bowl of strawberries.

I feel a bit greedy harboring lethal thoughts about the gang of squirrels which has been spending recent days making trip after trip to and from my strawberry patch. On one hand, I have lots of berries in my freezer and in jam jars. On the other hand, I’m afraid those squirrels are going to tell their friends and those friends are going to tell their friends, and one day I’ll look out the window and the garden will be simply swarming with little furry flick-tailed thieves.

A major tenet of pest control is avoiding habituation, which means don’t let the critters get started or they’ll never stop. I’m imagining generations of this squirrel population passing down the location of my strawberry beds as part of their familial lore.

In the end, I suppose I’ll just let them be as long as I’m getting my family’s share first.