Uninvited Guests

Early this morning, I found, much to my chagrin, the flowers in my garden were as if they’d never been. Bitten off above the soil, green stubs left aground. Mad enough to spit nails, I fussed and stomped around. It was easy to discover, who the culprits were. They left telling evidence indented in the dirt there. Their hoof prints tracked all around the flowerbed; no blossoms for my soul today, food in their stomachs instead.