Armed and dangerous

It started around the beginning of November. Cat poop on the minuscule border in front of our house.

The border does nothing more than host a hedge (yes, Leylandii. So sue me - it gives our living room privacy from passers by) and, in the spring, a pleasing if straggly display of daffodils and narcissi.

As recommended in the online forums, I scooped the offending turds into a plastic bag and binned them right away, scattered anti-cat pellets, and thought nothing of it.

But a couple of days later there's more, in a different place. The soil is dry and quite powdery under the hedge; it doesn't get much rain because of the hedge. Apparently an ideal place for a tabby toilet. I removed it again and used up the rest of the cat repellent - at about 3 times the recommended dose, hoping that it is not toxic to conifers or bulbs.

That didn't work either. This time I don't spot the disturbed soil right away and there are buried offerings as well as surface ones. By now I am getting fed up with constantly shovelling somebody elses's cat's excrement. It's unpleasant. It stinks. And I don't want it on or in my garden.

I decide on a different deterrent. I'll make it awkward for the cat to walk across the border. I rig up several short bamboo canes and thread garden twine to and fro like so many trip wires.

This is an abject failure. If anything the cat relishes the challenge. If only I could electrify the network. At 9:30 am one morning we actually spot the vile beast in the act and I rush out of the house yelling like a banshee, intent on scaring the bejeezus out of it. (Fortunately there's nobody on the street to witness this.)

But it was back a few days later. Clearly my banshee impression is not good enough.

One online contributor recommends vinegar so I scatter half a bottle. This had no effect other than depleting our stock of vinegar.

I decide to make it really hard for anything to walk across the border. I find a bag full of kebab sticks in a drawer in the kitchen and shove them into the soil. I'm leaving about 15cm exposed. Surely the bastard is going to give up now?

But I'm not going to get complacent. I rummage in the cellar until I find one of the kids' Super Soaker water pistols. It's been there for at least 15 years. Fill it up and make sure it's working. It is lock-and-loaded, primed and ready by the door for use if I see the perpetrator again. At this point I would dearly love to not only scare it out of its skin but give it a thorough soaking as well.

After several days lingering by the landing window, which overlooks the hedge, I still haven't seen any sign of the devil's spawn, but yet more poo appears.

I'm now wondering if anyone markets a landmine designed for cats. Obviously it would have to distinguish between a squirrel and a cat, and not be powerful enough to blow the thing into the road. That wouldn't look good. No, I don't need a weapon of cat destruction - I'd be quite happy just to take off a paw or leg. If there is no such device maybe I should patent the idea?

Wary that a Google search for such a device would probably ring alarm bells in Cheltenzham and Langzley, I settle for a trip to the hardware shop for more kebab sticks. (As will that last sentence - hence the 'z's in an attempt to evade their string recognition algorithms.) After this the density of sticks is around one every 5cm. At the same time I cover the surface of the border with flattened, semi-decomposed leaves from last year's leaf-mould-creation project. There is now no soft soil for the wretched beast to scuff about in.

But it's not enough! The damned thing has found a gap wide enough to squat and empty its miserable bum.

Outcome: more kebab sticks. But this time I've sunk them deeper And, there being an ample supply of  dry leaves on the drive, I decide that the border will benefit from the extra organic material these might provide.

And, oops, the latest batch of sticks are pointy end up ...and now accidentally covered with leaves. Oh dear. I'm sure they won't penetrate an unsuspecting paw...

I know what you're thinking. This is going to end up with me getting a nasty infection in my hand from a penetrating kebab stick in about 6 months time. But for now the cat has found somewhere else to use as a toilet.

Result.