deer feast on tasty tulips

I went out to check the garden today, and to my surprise and subsequent alarm, some tulips are already poking up out of the ground. Not only that, some of them have already been eaten by deer.

Oh no. Not this year, too.

This year I am determined to save my tulips from the teeth of these hungry pests.

Tulips were one of the first few things I planted in my garden five years ago. What I really wanted were some of those gorgeous, imposing, 24-inch tall red and yellow Emperors. But for the money, I got a bag of 100 garden variety mixed-color Darwin hybrids.

I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t know to scatter the bulbs. I planted them all in a row along the edge of the half-moon shaped bed bordering the walkway to the house. The next spring, every one of them came up. The mixed colors turned out to be quite a stroke of luck. They looked like a rainbow from a distance because of the way they arched along the shape of the bed. Pretty maids all in a row

Encouraged by success, I went crazy the next fall and planted 300 more.

With 400 tulips tucked snugly into bed, visions of a Dutch landscape dancing in my head, I left for China with the children in winter. In March, when we returned, I found to my horror that all of the tulips had been eaten by deer. Well, 388 of them. There were 12 tulips with the buds spared but the leaves chewed off.

The garden was ravaged. They looked like chopsticks sticking out of the ground, completely ridiculous and out of place.

Crestfallen, I added another 100 bulbs in the fall again, knowing I would be around to defend my turf next spring. I couldn’t help it. Tulips simply beg to be taken home and planted on a warm autumn day. If nothing else, the fantasy through the long winter would be worth its money.

I had learned to plant them in clusters but had yet to see the effect.

The next spring the tulips all came up. All 500 of them. They looked great, with thick, dark green, leaves caressing the fat buds, each pregnant with promises of a fabulous spring.

I checked them every morning. And every morning I knew it was another narrow escape. But I did not know what to do. Should I have covered them with something? With 500 tulips scattered everywhere, how long would it take? What if I forgot to take the cover off?

Then, one morning, they were gone. All the leaves were gone but many of the buds were spared this time.

Tulips on chopsticks were better than no tulips at all, I consoled myself. Should I have sprayed? I really should have. But I had never heard of anyone spraying for deer in March. I gambled instead, betting the animal would not return.

I was wrong. Totally wrong. I had one single tulip last spring. It looked so sickly I thought that must be why the deer spared it.

Needless to say, I did not plant any tulips last fall.

This spring, I am ready to redeem myself and salvage the sad saga of those poor tulips. There will be no more gambles. Even though I have never heard of anyone spraying in March, I will be the pioneer in my own garden.