It looks like we've had our last cold snap, so I was moving some of my
seedlings out to the cold frame for hardening off. I planned to
transplant some of my early tomatoes into larger pots, and I set them
on the potting table as I carried the others out back to the cold
frame.

As we came back from the back yard, we being the Puppies O'Thunder and
me, we startled a large black and white Tom that insists on courting
my 16 year old, spayed-for-fifteen-years, cat. He dashed under the
car, then scrambled across the potting table and over the fence. I
could only watch in horror as he kicked the tray with my early
tomatoes in it off the table, and it landed upside down on the ground.

Almost all the seedlings are broken just above the soil line. Out of
twenty four early tomatoes, I know have six, and one of those might
not make it. I buried the damaged part of the stem, but it was droopy
this morning.

Two and a half months of tending and scheming and delighting in even
tiny increments of growth, and it's almost all gone in the blink of an
eye. Oh, it's not really the cat's fault, he's just doing what cats
do; but if I could find the owner that allows an unneutered cat to
roam free, I'd throttle them.


Penelope
--
"Maybe you'd like to ask the Wizard for a heart."
"ElissaAnn"