The Man vs Carrot challenge took on a sinister turn on Saturday morning the 1st of October. It all started with JenkoBianco calling me to come over and see how his plot was progressing. While such invitations are clearly thinly veiled attempts of vegetable intimidation, the opportunity to pilfer some citrus from his trees is never lost on me. But others also had plans.
Hidden under the rug in the backseat of my gold Toyota compact was the “Saboteur”. Greying, innocent looking and female. The perfect cover. Who would have thought that she could even contemplate sabotaging JenkoBianco’s vege patch let alone actually doing it.
It went to plan. While JenkoBianco and I discussed the progress of his patch, she made herself at home playing with his retarded Fox Terrier Toby who just a few days before had been nearly torn apart by a Bull Mastif in the park. With surgery openings and stitches all over him, Toby looked like a Frankendog gone wrong. While the front was all about caring, and concern, the Saboteur was just biding her time. She didn’t really give a rats ass about the injured Toby. It was all a front.
Then she struck. While we were momentarily distracted by the machinations of JenkoBiancos neighbours house being torn down by a front end loader, she ran across his patch of newly germinated corn, silverbeet and tomatoes, each step tearing through the hair like developing roots like the Tea Party through the American economic recovery. Nothing was spared. Devastation reigned.
Her work was done.
But like all good Saboteurs she made it appear like it could have been an accident. That way she could get away without JenkoBianco giving her a swift kick in the ass – something that he became an expert in when rounding up his chickens (last one in always got a little ‘hurry along’ –That’s why they always race each other to get into the pen first, he would cheekily say).
It all went exactly to plan.
Here is the Saboteur on the morning prior to the act. A little nervous looking, but once you stop being nervous you should give the game away.
Months of training went into this. Here (below) is one (err actually the only) drill that were used to perfect the task. Simple but effective. An “Olive Press” dog biscuit made from extra virgin olive oil. “Crack for dogs”. All I had to do was to stand on one side of the plot and have Ollie the Satoteur move to the other side. The rest came naturally.
Finally, Ollie the evening after the deed. Exhausted yet quietly satisfied, and with JenkoBianco’s soil still between her toes.
a cunning plan
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