Pioneer Woman, Pets and Cherry Tomatoes

Okay, I am as smitten with  The Pioneer Woman as everyone else is. Her brilliant photography, clever Oklahoma repartee, family-pleasin' recipes, and cute kids make her vast and wonderful blog a must read.  And if that weren't enough to suck you into her wacky and wonderful world, there are          all of those equally wacky and wonderful pets      or, ummm, animals in general.

So I feel compelled to tell you, my dears, that aside from the errant buffalo, baby porcupine, or obnoxious squirrel that might occasionally find its way into my  p o t a g e r  blog,  mine is a pet-free, animal-free home and garden zone.

Allergies, realities and practicalities make it so.  But don't feel sorry for me, all of you critter-lovers. 

I have my own furry friends to love (this one kind of  reminds me of a baby Big-Bird).

Anthropomorphism is the fancy word for applying human qualities to animals.  I am wondering what the word is for applying human characteristics to plants.  (Well, Veggietales does come to mind.)  Surely, there is a word for it, isn't there?  Do share if you know.  Because these darling little cherry tomatoes, not unlike a stray pooch or kitten, found there way, uninvited, but ever so welcome, into my garden.

Very cute and shy aren't they?  Initially, I kinda had to coax them out of hiding.  And there were just a few at first. But the sweet things got frisky (as pets will do) in the cooler weather, and then began to multiply like little rabbits.

I can tell you are smitten with them.  It's okay.  You can touch them. They won't bite.

But I can't promise the reverse is true.

Obviously, I can't get enough of the sweet, innocent little darlings. 

Each one has its own distinct personality, don't you think?
Anyway, this little tomato seedling just wandered in, its parentage unknown, (though I think my friend Bubba and  his packet of 'Pearl' cherry tomatoes is responsible). 

But, in all likelihood, it's probably just a mutt.  A mutt cherry tomato.

Despite its questionable lack of good breeding, I've grown attached to it.  (I am not a snob, after all). Or, rather, it's grown attached to me.  And my trellis.     And my fence.  And maybe the little wooden chair too.  Oh my.

Anyway, as I watched it consume everything around it, I just thought (or sang) to myself

"How high will a sycamore grow, if you cut it down, you will ne-e-ver know..."  

thanks to Pocahantas and Disney, and I decided that I'd just let that little tomato grow and grow and grow      and do its thing.  

I am such a risk-taker.

And boy did it ever!

Still, with a big heart (I am such an easy touch), I took them all in.  Even the wormy ones, though I did get them treated for that.

I simply just couldn't resist their sweet nature and delicious disposition.

I'm sure you'd do the same in my position.

Being a pet lover and all.

Now look who's strayed in?  :)