Slugfest

It’s not the garden they raid, it’s the kitchen.

I’ve learned to clear away the cat’s plate at night so I don’t find it gossamered with slugslobber in the morning. Sometimes with Silbo Sluggins the quiet burglar still in the dish.

There’s a technique for getting rid of them humanely, I call it the slug-flick. (“Where do you go to my slugly?”) Fold a paper kitchen towel in four, pick up the slug without (ugh) touching it, roll it left and right so it curls up and stops trying to stick to the paper, then with a flick of the wrist it’s off down the garden (“I believe I can fly”) sometimes with a splat as it hits a wall but it never kills them.

They keep coming back, they know the way; does one of them act as a scout on the Chisholm Trail to our back door? Caught four the other night, different sizes, from grand master to apprentice.