Cayenne Pepper and the Gospel of Rotten Eggs

Anytime I make a claim to knowledge in this blog, Nature comes right back and bites a big hole in my assumptions. This morning, the melon vines seemed mysteriously shorter than they had been the night before, defying the laws of time and space. I took a closer look and saw that many of the growing tips had been bitten off, leaving mere sticks at the ends of the vines. When I examined the vines more closely still, I could see that some of the big leaves had been halved by the nighttime nibbler.

The rabbits, having decimated the bush beans I had planted as decoys during the week I was away from home, must have decided that melon plants weren’t so bad, after all. At least one of them has developed quite a taste for my melons, as I found at least ten vine ends that had suffered similar damage.

Enough is enough, I thought, and I grimly looked up information on live trapping. I didn’t relish the idea of hauling them away, considering the sorts of diseases and parasites wild animals can carry (rabies, icky fleas and ticks, bubonic plague—this last one was quite common among the prairie dogs in Colorado, where I grew up). But taking them to a nice, far-away meadow with a bean field nearby seemed like an acceptable permanent solution, if it could be managed.

Unfortunately, as I learned, it’s not legal in the state of Virginia for an ordinary mortal like me to trap a wild beast, no matter what my intentions are. I would have to be licensed. Much as I want to rid myself of bunnies, my distaste for them has not yet inspired me with the zeal that would be necessary to go through that process. Next, I looked up licensed professional trappers. There’s at least one company in my immediate area that traps small animals and takes them elsewhere. I figured, though, that the company's services (quite justifiably) would not come cheap, although its prices were not explicitly advertised on its Web site.

Some kind of rabbit repellent would be my only remaining option. Later, I stopped by a Lowe’s store to survey the options. The only item on the shelves that claimed to turn away rabbits was a product compounded of blood meal, garlic, and something called “putrescent egg solids.” Desperate though I am, I couldn’t quite stomach that one, nor could I justify coughing up twelve bucks for a mixture I could easily make at home. I can produce my own spoiled eggs quite easily, thank you very much.

I hope it won’t come to that, though. Jerry Baker, author of Terrific Tomatoes, Sensational Spuds, and Mouth-Watering Melons, gives a recipe for “Grandma Putt’s All-Purpose Varmint Repellent.” The mixture contains garlic, hot peppers, ammonia, and water, plus two eggs. You’re supposed to let it sit for three or four days before using it—“putrescent egg solids,” indeed! Again, I can’t quite see using something like that, at least not yet.

Instead, I mixed half a teaspoon of cayenne pepper (the gourmet stuff, from Penzey’s Spices, which I’ve used only sparingly over the years because a dash of it goes a long, long way) into about one-fourth cup of canola oil, then spread the mixture, using an old pastry brush, on the vine tips and some of the melon leaves. In case the marauders moved on to other dainties, I rubbed some of the oil on the leaves of my pepper plants and eggplants, many of which have outgrown their chicken-wire cages. The melons are growing so fast that I will probably have to apply this mixture many times, provided it works. If not, my faith in cayenne pepper will be shaken, and I will bend to the gospel of rotten eggs.