Slugs Gone Wild

Something was going terribly wrong with my marigolds.

First, the ones I planted around the rhododendron were crapping out.  The rhododendron wasn't so big when I planted the marigolds.  It was big, yes.  Too big, in fact.  It's partially blocking my view from when I sit on my chair on the porch and try to keep an eye on the world as it goes by.  I haven't been sitting on the porch much at all while it's been so hot and humid out.  But once the weather's fine again, I might have to give that rhododendron a good whacking and lop off the offending branches.  Anyway, I had no idea it would grow so much so quickly that it would overshadow the marigolds and cut them off from life-giving sunshine.  End result: they're dead.

Second, the ones under the maple tree weren't doing much better.  They were getting by, but they didn't get enough sun, either, so they were looking pretty pathetic.  I don't have time for that.  So I yanked them out.  End result: they're dead.

Third, the ones in front of the front porch, filling in the goofy gaps between goofy bushes, were looking rather shabby.  They're almost dead.  Based on a trail of dew-like, glistening substance on the marigolds, Kevin thought slugs might be feasting on them.  I googled 'slugs eat marigolds' and found that, indeed, the slimy bastards most likely are responsible.

I needed to catch them in the act to be sure that was the problem so I knew how to approach the problem.  The thing to do would be to go out at, oh, 5 o'clock in the morning, and look for slugs.  Well, I put that on my list of things to do for a few days, but it didn't happen.  Then Nosey went all crazy one morning around 4 a.m., running across the bed, running around the bedroom, pouncing on nothing (as far as I could see), meowing at no one (as far as I could hear), etc.  I was pretty much awake at that point.  Just in time to look for slugs.

So, with my trusty new Superman mini-flashlight in my hand (free with a package of Duracells!), I slunk out under cover of darkness to go a-huntin' slug.  And there they were:

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Slug after slug after slug....

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...after slug after slug...

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...after slug.

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What to do?  There's poison: Slug Death.

There are beer traps; the lushes are attracted to the beer, over-imbibe and drown.  You can even buy 'handmade, earthen slug pots' in which to serve the beer.

Although you needn't be so fancy; turns out slugs don't mind drinking straight from the bottle (via):

Drunk slugs are not pretty (via); don't know if I want to encourage this behavior:

But, according to this website, there's at least one slug who drinks and crawls, so clearly this approach is not foolproof.

I could pick them off, then drop them in beer or salt.  This blogger did so with chopsticks and a flashlight, also under cover of darkness. I've got that manuever down pat.  I figured I'd use gloves, but I like the chopsticks.

Then there's sprinkling them with salt, the slug's kryptonite.  I'll just add the salt shaker to my toolbelt.  That looks painful.  Sadistic.

This is definitely sadistic: a salt maze for a slug:

Or I could just try to reason with them.

Once they're gone, I could spread crushed eggshells around to keep slugs away in future.  The slugs won't cross the sharp eggshell pieces.  I'd need a lotta eggshells.

Slugs don't seem too keen on copper, either; there's copper tape to use as a barrier, but that's not helpful for beds.

But what to do now?

I suppose killing the slugs would be the fastest, easiest, most effective way to wage this Local War on Terror.  But I'm not so much anti-slug as I am pro-marigold.  They're just doing what slugs do.

I admit, however, that I'm a bit skeptical about that suggestion to try to break down the inter-species communication barriers and reason with the slugs.  For one thing, I'm not all that sure that the slugs and I are on the same level, reasoning-wise.  Before you accuse me of intellectual elistism, please note that I haven't specified who would have the upper hand/tentacle in the debate.

I would like to enjoy my healthy marigolds without the slugs also enjoying my healthy marigolds.  And I don't think I really want to kill the slugs, if only bc I don't want to see their corroded and/or bloated and/or impaled and/or otherwise mutilated bodies strewn across the mulch.  'Twould be too ugly a price to pay for beauty.

I think the thing to do, then, is to take the chopstick/flashlight/cover of darkness approach and relocate the slugs to the back of the yard.  I reckon it might take them too long to find their way back up front to enjoy more marigolds this season.  This will, of course, possibly subject me to neighborly interest of a humiliating nature: Just what am I doing out there in my nightgown at 5 a.m.?  Oh, just working things out with the slugs.

The crucial element of this approach is the part about 5 o'clock in the freakin' morning.  And I imagine it will take at least several days of such unnatural effort to loose my marigolds from the tyranny of the lawn prawn.  Well, as it stands now, I'm going with the kindler, gentler approach.  We'll see how long that lasts.

Of course, it may seem odd that I hesitate to kill a slug, but didn't hesitate to chow down on a most tasty meal Kevin prepared the other night, featuring a ribeye steak.  Yet I'm not going to go down that road.  Not bc I deny that there's a disconnect; there surely is.  Long-time readers will recall several (unsuccessful) attempts I've made to go veggie (or vegetarian or vegan or whatever the kids call it these days).  I'm workin' on it, 'k?  Though I could keep my actions, beliefs and feelings more in line by enjoying my slimy captives in that culinary classic, the Lawn Prawn Jubilee.  It is lunchtime and all this blogging has my stomach rumbling.  Unfortunately, the slugs are back in their slug-y lairs and unavailable for consumption, so I suppose I'll have to resort to the usual lunch chocies.

Comments

[Kevin]

There used to be a product called "Deadline" which was used to draw a thin, toothpaste-like line of grayish liquid between your garden and the source of the slugs, most likely your lawn. Slugs that don't cross it get to live; those that do, die. It worked great for me but it isn't on the marked any more. Apparently dogs and cats that step in it lick it off and get poisoned...

[Acacia Carr]

You don't have to wait until 5 in the morning. You've probably already figured this out, but about 20 minutes after it gets dark, you are set to find them nibbling. And don't be fooled, they can cross the length of a backyard in one night.