The Rat in the Garden

Published on by Yinglan

Well, it was more like a mouse but I like rat better.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Can you believe this cute little creature has been the culprit to the decimation to my garden the last few days?

I would go to bed and the next day, I would go out into the garden to find my cucumber plant and bush bean plant, which I’ve been growing for the last month gone, all that’s left would the little stump of where the stem used to be. This was on Friday – May 31. On Saturday evening, as I was transplanting my pepper plants, I found one of the seedlings for the California Wonder peppers chewed off in the same manner of the cucumber plant. The seedling had been growing since February. The same thing also happened to my watermelon seedling.

As I was heading back into the house on Saturday night, I heard something move beneath the staircase to the backyard deck. I was going to investigate but my aunt nagged me to go into the house, that it was dark.

On Sunday morning, I woke up and found two of the sweet potato vines gone. This time, I was angry. Who would do something like this? What kind of evil creature eats seedlings? I don’t have deer in my area and even if I did, I would’ve noticed if it leapt the fence into the backyard.

I was determined to protect my plants. I put insect netting over the cucumber plants. I knew from observation that this creature only eats the stuff on the ground because none of the plants in the raised beds were harmed, only in-ground beds and seedling trays. It doesn’t dig and only ate the stuff in sight. It only seems to like edible plants since none of the flowers were harmed either. I went online to research but nothing fit.

Then I remember hearing a noise coming from the bottom of the stairs. I began moving plant pots around until I saw it. I let out a loud shriek. “A mouse! A mouse!”

“Don’t let it into the house!” My mom shouted.

I felt like the mouse panicked, too, when it saw me. My aunt opened the sliding door and began kicking thing around. “Stop kicking my stuff around!” I shouted, angry. The mouse was nowhere to be seen.

As the three of us searched for the mouse, my mom began attacking me with insults, about how the garden is making me sick and how much the quality of my life has deteriorated from working in the garden everyday, and how I am not living a self-respectful life by working in the garden, whatever that means…

She blamed me for letting a mouse into the backyard because of my plants.

We eventually found the mouse. It went hiding underneath the storage box. What was more interesting was the stuff it left behind. There were little white stones or rocks. At first, I thought it was mouse droppings but it didn’t look like it. Later, my aunt discovered these were cherry pits. My mom has been thinning her precious cherry tree and has been carelessly dropping the discarded fruits on the ground.

I’ve already told her, “don’t do that, either toss it in the garbage or bury it.” Not only it would never decompose, but it would attract who-knows-what. Of course, why would she listen? Everyone in the family would ask me things when they need something but no one actually listens to a damn word I say.

It was my mom who lure the mouse to my garden – the garden I’ve tending over to have my plants eaten overnight. However, there was no apology because why should I get an apology? My mom never apologized to me my entire life. In fact, she continuously emphasized I owe her for my life.

Photo by Liza Summer on Pexels.com

She continued to hurl insults at me for the next hour. Normally, I would just take it but this time, I’ve had just about enough. How dare she said I make myself sick by gardening? How dare she implied gardening brings me misery? I wanted to attack, “Why can’t you shut the f*** up for once in your life?” Seriously, if she didn’t know what she was talking about, just shut up. I wanted to slap her for insulting me. It’s been such a long time coming, of all the years of emotional abuse and mental abuse, but then, I remember my last session with my dietitian, check your reaction.

In the end, I slammed my bedroom door as hard as I could and sat against it to prevent her from coming in since there’s no lock on the door.

23 thoughts on “The Rat in the Garden”

  1. Did you say anything to her in the end? She deserved at least to let her know how you feel for the insults she gave you, and devaluing your work. Don’t let people just to run over you like that. She obviously doesn’t understand what the garden means to you, if you’d spoke to her maybe she’d understand or at least stopped with her insults.

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    1. I told her to stop with her assumptions, that she doesn’t know what I want. I hate that she assumes she knows everything. It’s very frustrating. I told her, “if you don’t have anything nice, don’t say it.” It might had felt a tad childish to say it but it’s my policy. It’s very mean and hurtful to just blurt out the most hurtful that comes to mind. I used to let her walk over me but in the recent years, I’ve begun to fight back and she doesn’t like it. So I think it’s perhaps her way to attempting to regain control.

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      1. It’s not a way a mother should behave, but then again, I don’t know her and what’s she been through in her life. Still, you should set boundaries and not allow her or anyone else to behave disrespectfully to you. I know it must hurt to experience such a behavior coming from your own mother and I don’t know your situation, but maybe it would be useful to try to understand her, understand that her behaviour comes from her own traumas or insecurities, and that she isn’t intentionally hurting you. But you should protect yourself from that behaviour nevertheless.

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      2. I don’t know why she would behave this way either and I’ve lived with her for most of my life. It’s only in the last decade or so that she started acting this way and it’s just been gradually getting worse.

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      3. That’s really peculiar… What do you think, what could be the reason she startet to be like that? I can’t make asumptions because I don’t know her. Have you ever openly talked about it with her, asked her why does she behave the way she does?

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      4. I have tried an open discussion. She denied she’s changed and started yelling and throwing tantrum before the discussion began.
        I don’t think I ever really knew her either because other than everyday conversations about meals and her telling me where her book of passwords are, she’s never told me anything.
        I have heard tales from her siblings that something similar happened to their dad, too, around my mother’s age. So maybe it’s genetic?

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      5. I doubt it can be genetic… I think it’s more of a psychological hereditary thing. There are hereditary mental disorders proven to exist. In such a manner, a person’s character flaws could be due to her heredity. She obviously has issues alright and isn’t willing (or capable) to address them properly and to accept the fact she has them. It must be really hard for you to live with her. You can’t change her if she doesn’t want to be changed, you can just set boundaries to protect yourself, and gain more independence from her, get out of her paws, to say it metaphorically.

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      6. Ah, hereditary, in my mind, somehow being passed down though DNA is the same as hereditary. I guess some traits aren’t necessarily passed down in our genes but in some other ways.
        Yes, it has been hard to live with her. It’s the reason I started to blog because obviously I can’t share my feelings with her because she wouldn’t listen and no matter how many boundaries I’ve set, she’s crossed it.

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      7. Maybe the word “hereditary” refers to genes in English, I don’t know. You can’t move away from your mother? If you can’t, I understand, I also live with my mother and sister and ain’t able to move out at the moment. 🙂

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      8. Actually, she invited herself into my house and I can’t kick her out. Everytime I tried, she would say, “you’re not that heartless, are you? Forcing your mother onto the streets.” I am simply too kind.

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      9. Man, ain’t that obscure. She literally forced you to live with her. I wouldn’t be able to kick her out neither, no matter how much she might have deserved it. I’d love to give you advice on how to handle that situation, but I honestly don’t know what to say. If you ever need to talk, I’m here and I think there’s my email posted on my blog, so you can contact me. 🙂

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