I have two strawberry plants in my front garden. I planted four last spring, but only two are still living. The other two didn't survive the fall bulb planting. One of the remaining plants is a scrawny fellow with no fruit. The other, who is partially obscured by a rose bush, is thriving. It had a bunch of little green berries on it until two Sundays ago, when we had a fantastic hail storm. The hail pulverized everything green; the air smelled of chlorophyll from the bashing. The two most heavily laden strawberry branches were snapped from the plant.
Sunday, we were sitting on the porch, and noticed one ripe berry. As I was admiring it from the porch, debating who should get the first strawberry, a certain small dog dashed off the porch and ate it! So yesterday evening, when I spotted the second ripe strawberry from the porch, I immediately picked it and ate it myself. She does not look remorseful, does she? No, she looks like a dog who wanted another strawberry.