|He's not normally this evil; I caught him in mid-head shake.|
Well, this year's drought is the worst we've seen here. The pond level drops daily as the willow trees drink in what water they can, and as the sun drinks back whatever else. Zim's begun wading through the shallower parts to come up into the yard. Not to eat the lawn, because, frankly, there's nothing to eat but dried straw, but to raid the birdfeeders. He'll eat from all the flat feeders and ranch feeders, then go to the tube feeders and shake the seeds out like salt from a saltshaker. Pitiful...
Anyway, I tried to put some natural barricades in place to dissuade him from heading for the home shore. I drug tree branches and logs over,
even used the 'keyhole' stump as an easy fence post.
The Bone Yard and laid them down as a warning: "Abandon hope, all ye who enter here" lest ye suffer the same fate!