Of munching moose and snacking slugs

On a number of occasions, I have been queried as to best defense against moose. They are certainly one of our most difficult pests to manage — right up there with slugs.

I have tried over the years every conceivable means of destroying slugs. One winter, I washed, dried and crushed a bushel of eggshells, driven by the vision of a plethora of slugs gazing hungrily at my cabbages but unwilling to lacerate their soft undersides by crossing this sharp-edged barrier. Fool, I! Not only did the slugs swarm, unharmed, over the eggshells, they sheltered beneath them during the day. Ditto the coffee grounds of another season.

The beer traps, imported from England, actually did attract slugs; they came, they imbibed, and they feasted on garden salad. As the word spread, all the neighborhood slugs joined the nightly revelee. Being of a determined nature, I thought that a stronger brew might cause the slugs to pass out in the beer barrel, so, the following summer, I switched from Miller Lite to Guinness Extra Dark. The parties resumed, with the slugs drinking longer, staggering erratically to the lettuce, and still eating their fill. So much for two six-packs and two gardening seasons.

This season, I hopefully invested in a much touted slug-bait pellet. I sprinkled the perimeter of my vegetable gardens and perennial beds, and, since there already existed a burgeoning slug populace within these bounds, I sprinkled more pellets within. Following instructions, I repeated the process twice, at weekly intervals. The bait must have been tasty, as every morsel disappeared. Unfortunately, the slugs did not. I resorted, as I do every year, to picking the marauders by hand and reducing them to slime underfoot, a task that is so distasteful, I am set on having another go with the pellets next spring. Perhaps the population growth can be retarded before infestation level is reached.

Deterring moose can be equally frustrating, and even more so, as they take larger bites and have not the courtesy to give the garden a rest during the winter months. Probably the only really effective method is a barrier. A fence of at least five feet in height is required, strong enough to stop two tons of hurtling moose, and highly visible. High visibility may not add esthetic value, albeit a five foot fence probably already lacks that, but visibility may prevent the two tons from hurtling into it, and moose cannot step over and will not vault over such a barrier. However, as the bottom three feet may get buried in snow, providing a convenient step-stool, for winter protection, eight feet of fence is surer.

Vying with the fence for esthetic value, and with the eggshells for effectiveness, would be various items hung from branches one hopes to save. My mother, who entertains a regular procession of moose, so many, in fact, that she has dubbed her vegetable garden “The Moose Salad,” has experimented with a number of such decorations. One year, with dryer sheets tied to their branches, one would have thought that several dryer vents had disgorged themselves in her apple trees. Another time it was shiny bits of tinfoil, creating a year-round holiday effect, and, once, puffs of tulle adorned the shrubbery for a perpetual wedding look. The moose continued to browse, the dryer sheets lending sheen to their coats, the tinfoil lighting the trees splendidly for night feeding, and the tulle providing convenient ear scratchers.

Mother even considered hanging out little pots of an ammonia/bleach mixture, which was purported to repel members of the deer family, but the plan was rejected, as she thought the fumes might make the moose tipsy, and staggering moose can cause considerably more damage than staggering slugs. This year, I believe, bird nets are on trial. They should add a chewy contrast to the crunch of woody branches.

I am fortunate to see only two or three moose per year, and these are not generally interested in staying for dinner. However, those few that have tarried seem contented to dine on willow, of which I have a good number, both ornamental and indigenous. I prune them yearly to encourage plenty of the succulent new growth that moose love. One winter, a cow and a calf spent three days foraging in my apple orchard, eating only the willow that I keep amongst the apples for bait, and some unharvested rutabagas.

There you have it. Two gardeners’ attempts to defy pests. I wish you better luck than ours.

Hally Truelove is a Master Gardener and Plants Woman who lives and gardens in Wasilla with her two daughters, a handful of cats, a bunch of bunnies, some guinea pigs, a dog and a frog. Contact her at 376-0909.