Dear Slugs: I like to think I’ve been good to you. My poorly kept lawn is full of weeds, wild onions and toadstools for you to feast upon. Our giant tree drops acorns nonstop, which lead to the growth of about 10 saplings a week, even more during the rainy season. Don’t act like you don’t eat them; I’ve seen those little holes you leave behind in their broad green leaves.

We use natural fertilizer and weedkillers, which, as you know, really don’t do all that much. I’ve heard of some who use a spray to keep away you and your friends for weeks, but no, I respect the circle of life.

How do you repay me for my kindness? By eating the one thing I paid good money to put out there: the three patches of hot-pink vincas around the tree. Last time, you let them be. They grew so well that our neighbor who routinely shames us with his personal botanical garden applauded us for our improved landscaping.

Oh, they put up a good fight. They tried to grow. I waited weeks for the buds to bloom, and one day, they disappeared. All that’s left are a few sickly stalks. Until my husband saw you swarming on them the other day, we blamed the squirrels.

Now that I know you are at fault, this means war. It’s an environmentally friendly war, but it’s war nonetheless. I will nurse those damn vincas back to health, by hook or by crook. I don’t know if you are the praying kind, but if so, you better get to it, because I’m gunning for you.

Sincerely,
Diva

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