The liquid ecstasy on dirt is simple : Good dirt needsgood dirt . Chicken poop , cow ninny , duck poop , buck poop . Bat poop , even ! With the local horse cattle ranch a scant mile aside , my Girlsproducing cumulus of soil nutrient right there in their compost poulet house every calendar week , and my trusty wormies processing family garbage into gold , I am up to my ears in awesome poop . While I secretly crave for bat guano ( chiefly so I can brag that I use at-bat guano ) , I am in full shape , poop - wise .
Except for Pudding .
Pudding ( do n’t tell the other two ) is my ducky of our three cats . The other two , Fats and Marble , are charming as heck , but pud has a special way about her . Our friend Mike refers to her as “ The Superior Cat . ” I call up he is correct .
I believe Pudding returns my eminent regard ; she follow me everywhere I go , trailing me through the house and into the garden , and that ’s where the Pudding Problem rise up .
Now , perhaps she notice the joy I had in mulch with sawbuck manure or saw the gleam of delight in my eye as I raked another batch ofcomposted wimp poopout of the hencoop and want to impart to the peachy good of theFortress Garden , or mayhap she just had to go and did n’t require to leave my side , but one Clarence Shepard Day Jr. , as I was in the garden picking a grown ol’ bunch of borecole for dinner party , she hopped up into a planter box newly sown with turnip seminal fluid and , well , pooped .
Not only did Pudding ’s Pooping Process ( which involved a lot of digging and turning around and prod again , to recover just the right patch ) destroy my neatly - sown turnip bottom , but it put in what I ’ve learned is Uncool Poop ( a technological farming term ) into my carefully developed super soil . consort to the interwebs ( and as always , I checked three or four source ) , cat poop ( anddog poopfor that matter ) in the garden is a big no - no . Not only can it introduce stinking sponge likeToxoplasma gondii , roundworms , hookworm disease and tapeworms , it really , reallystinks .
I actuallylovethe smell of manure , especially if it ’s been compost a minute . But the comparison of lovely , crumbly manure to a diminutive log of kitty dung is like comparing a scrumptious ribeye steak to , well … pussycat dung .
So I put on baseball glove , and , sacrificing the Brassica rapa source I ’d already imbed , dig out through the corner until I had removed all of the offending poops . Apparently , it was n’t Pudding ’s first rodeo ; I was determined , however , that it would be her last . I bring a respectable layer of newfangled filth , and reseeded . This time , Icovered the box with bird veiling . Pudding watched the whole operation , looking on with an inscrutable expression .
Was she hurt that I rejected her offering ? I will never know for certain . But I retrieve she has forgiven me . The other twenty-four hours she bring me a adorable dead lizard , and I believe I was successful in cite a credible display of delectation . I ’m jolly sure lizards make decent compost , so I think we ’re unspoiled .
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