Ever since I was little, I loved the magic of a garden and the joy of picking beans and tomatoes, shucking corn, and searching for the biggest pumpkin. When I moved to Arizona, I tried to replicate a much smaller version of the ones my grandparents had. But unlike their Ohio garden, in Phoenix, I could have both a spring and a fall/winter garden.

Yet, this year high September temperatures prevented me from planting until two weeks ago. (It remains to be seen if it will mature and produce.) And given the late start, I was forced to not use seeds, but mature plants of zucchini, broccoli, and tomatoes. Thanks to an ample supply of horse manure from my neighbor, I meticulously tilled, watered, and firmly set each plant. All was well. Until….

Being Type A, my ingrained-morning routine includes a walk to my garden, where I assess soil moisture, plant growth, etc. Much to my horror and disgust, I discovered some varmint had invaded, dug several holes, and pulled up all of my tomato plants. Damn, damn, damn. Gophers? Moles? Years ago, I’d ordered some solar-powered, sonic pest repellents; I’d try those. Alas, they wouldn’t arrive for two more days, and my garden could be decimated by then. With the help of one of my old campaign signs, a piece of screen, and duct tape, I built a barrier. Viola! It worked. The varmint had vacated.

Curious and curiouser. Suddenly, it occurred to me. Given the random holes in my garden and the uprooting of my plants, it wasn’t a gopher or a mole. It was my cabana gal’s long-legged Bernedoodle, who loves to dig anywhere and everywhere.

Tomorrow, I’ll return my unopened sonic repellents to Amazon.