Corn and Heirloom Tomatoes. Oil on canvas. 36 x 24 inches (91 x 61 cm ) . $750.

As anyone who has ever grown corn will tell you, it’s always a race to see whether you or the wildlife will eat it first. Back in Ohio, Rich spent years trying ever-more elaborate ways to keep animals out of our vegetable garden. Eventually he discovered a solar-powered electric fence: it had cups hanging on it that smelled deliciously like peanut butter, and when the deer or other critters nuzzled the cups, they’d get zapped, and would re-route their feeding patterns elsewhere. The first night we turned it on, I was sure we’d wake up in the morning to find deer carcasses scattered around the perimeter of the garden, or possibly the scorched bodies of neighborhood children or dogs. But we soon learned, by constantly forgetting when it was on, that having fifteen volts of electricity shooting through your body doesn’t do any actual damage, it just makes every cell in your body suddenly shriek, “WHAT THE HELL? DO NOT DO THAT AGAIN!” 

It kept out the animals but attracted every kid in the neighborhood, all wanting to “accidentally” touch the electric fence and get zapped with their friends looking on. Posting a dramatic yellow sign covered with lightning bolts and dire warnings only served to encourage them. One day, a neighbor’s houseguest noticed our dog, Pie, had been accidentally shut inside the garden. The young man kindly reached through the fence to pet the dog, and just as his hand came in contact with her head, his chin touched the electric wire. Dog and man flew apart with identical howls of shocked surprise. I rushed over to apologize, explaining this was an electric fence to keep out pests. “Well, it works,” he said shortly. “You won’t see me around your garden again.” Nor did we.

Originally published Thursday, November 17, 2011

One particularly frenetic day during the Christmas holidays, a gift package arrived in the mail just as I was heading out the door. With no time to open it, I tossed it under the tree. Hours later I arrived home to find our dog lying on her back under the tree, paws in the air, a blissful expression on her face. It turned out the package had contained an entire rum cake, which she had ripped out of the box and devoured. She was fat, drunk and happy for three days. I’m sure it was one of her most cherished holiday memories.