Lately the morning news is full of breathless anchor people announcing that someone in some suburb has sighted a coyote. Easterners thought coyotes were romantic back when they howled at us long-distance from the West; it’s different now the feral canines are here among us.
The coyotes are keeping company in our backyards, parks, train right-of-ways and uninhabited buildings with other denizens of the wild, including skunks, rabbits, possums, foxes, wild turkeys, bears and—most of all—deer. I worry about the coyotes sometimes; I worry about the deer full time. They are omnipresent in my yard and my neighbors’ properties, nibbling on the vegetation, defecating at will, nurturing their young and—judging by the number of fawns–making whoopee in the wee small hours. If I had a dollar for every time someone said to me, “Can’t the town do something about this?” I would be a rich woman.
The answer to that burning question is a resounding “No!” No matter what town you live in, the municipal authorities can’t round up deer because some other town would have to accept the rounded-up herd. Most towns in my state have their own deer problems. My town can’t bring in sharpshooters because in this densely populated suburb, a sharpshooter might accidentally wing some bond trader on his or her early morning sprint to the train station. Besides, there are those who would oppose the sniper idea even if Mr. Antlers were performing his morning toilette in the powder room downstairs. I make no judgments; this is just a fact.
So we gardeners are stuck with hoards of hungry, four-legged pests—some of which carry the ticks that spread Lyme disease–that can take out an entire expensive planting scheme in one long night. What can we do?
Giving up on the garden is not an option for those of us who derive fulfillment from working the earth. Not all of us have the wherewithal to fence an entire landscape. So we have to take a series of small steps that will allow us to live in relative harmony with Mr. Antlers and his ever-increasing crew of deer.
Some of us can fence specific areas and grow vulnerable plants within those cordoned-off plots. This requires a fence at least eight feet tall. To keep rabbits and borrowing critters out, the barrier should also have hardware cloth attached to the base and sunk into the earth to a depth of eighteen inches, with the bottom six inches folded outward at a right angle to the body of the barrier. I have seen gardeners who go so far as to construct vegetable garden-size cages with wire tops, which also discourages birds from dining on fruiting plants like blueberries and raspberries. The fenced/caged area can be home to vegetables and edibles or vulnerable ornamentals including roses, tulips, fall-blooming anemones, hostas and coral bells. Most herbs can be grown outside the enclosure, as their strong scents make them less attractive to deer.
“But what,” moans an enclosure-free friend, “can I do if I can’t put in an enclosure?” If you have an elevated space, such as a deck or porch, grow vulnerable vegetable and fruit crops in containers positioned on the raised spaces. Deer are not good at climbing multiple steps. If you have problems with raccoons, be sure to surround porch or deck-containers with tall collars of hardware cloth. Raccoons, many of whom probably send their clever offspring to MIT, can and will climb steps in search of delicacies.
I grow only a few edibles and generally confine them to the porch, but I have a garden full of plants that deer consider gourmet delights. Because I have to tolerate Mr. Antlers and his fellow-travelers, I keep a container of deer repellent by the back door. This foul-smelling substance is a sprayable mash-up of peppers, rotten eggs and various other unmentionable things. Once the spray settles on the plants, it is not terribly noticeable to casual passers-by.
Whenever I go out, I spray at least some of the vulnerable plants. Since most repellents need to be reapplied after rain or overhead irrigation, and periodically even in moisture-free weather, regular deer-spraying keeps your yard smelling unattractive to the deer and protects plants that would be goners otherwise. This strategy works well for me. The cost of deer spray is an ongoing expense, but it is still much less expensive than replacing plants and cheaper psychologically than giving up gardening.
Knowledge is power and you can gain power over deer by knowing which of your particular plants are less desirable to them. There is no such thing as a “deer-proof” plant, as deer in different geographical areas seem to prefer different foods. Also, a hungry deer will eat just about anything. In my yard, the foxgloves and hellebores are safe, most likely because even the deer know that the plant parts are full of toxins. Iris and hardy geranium seem reasonably impervious as well. Daffodils make Mr. Antlers shrug his impressive shoulders and move on.
Rutgers Cooperative Extension has a neat list of landscape plants rated by deer resistance and searchable by plant name. Find it online at: https://njaes.rutgers.edu/deerresistance/ If you want something more specific to a particular area, check with your county cooperative extension service, which most likely has its own list.
Until someone comes up with a better solution, many of us will have to learn to co-exist with Mr. Antlers. Remember to arm yourself with repellent when you go out and check yourself for ticks when you come in. The Lyme Disease Association has a great website with all the information you will need: http://www.lymediseaseassociation.org/index.php
Over the millennia, gardeners have overcome all kinds of challenges. We will eventually outwit Mr. Antlers as well.