Rat Bastards!

Every spring I perform the same ritual.

While dreaming  of BLTs made with warm Brandywines straight from the vine or a hearty  San Romano marinara with savory sausage or tiny  Sungolds  in  summer salad, I plant. I tend. I cultivate..

Then they arrive.

The deer.

Or, as they are known around here, 

Rodents With Antlers.

Curious fun fact, deer don't seem to like tomatoes all that much. They prefer the Tasting Menu. They'll wander into the garden (always after  dusk or before dawn)  to locate the single most perfectly ripe tomato, take exactly one delicate bite—as though sampling the chef's amuse-bouche—and leave the rest dangling on the vine. 
​​Why?
To taunt me, obviously.

Scientists claim deer have an extraordinary sense of smell—hundreds of times more sensitive than ours—and can detect the sweetest, ripest fruit from remarkable distances. They also have a four-chambered stomach capable of digesting an astonishing variety of plants.

Useful adaptations, I suppose.

Sadly, doesn't explain why they insist on taking only one bite out of every ripe tomato.
Do they possess exquisitely refined palates? Or cherry tomato-sized brains with absolutely no long-term memory?

Four seasons ago I planted an Asian pear tree, Every spring she bravely sends out tender new shoots, only to have them nibbled back to tiny green nubs by Velvet-Faced Vandals. Her nearby companion, the peach tree, has fared somewhat better. This year I actually harvested fruit.
​Mostly.
Many of the peaches bore the unmistakable ravaging of Garden Gremlins: one or two delicate bites and then... abandonment.
Birds? Perhaps.
Yet certain evidence was unmistakable.
Hoofprints.
Number 4.
Cloven.

I've considered lying in wait with a paintball gun. Unfortunately, deer can sprint close to 30 miles per hour, leap eight feet into the air, and vanish into the shrubbery before I can mutter, "Rat Bastard!"
Perhaps the answer is a motion-activated spotlight.
Catch them in the proverbial headlights.
​Level the playing field.

Until then, I'll simply imagine revenge in culinary form.
Tonight's special: a rustic ragout of tomato, stone fruit, and Asian pear.
Served over venison.

Bambi, you've been warned!