Oh, the joy of growing vegetables in the front yard.

Plenty of sunshine. Space enough to add two more raised beds and lots of herbs.

No concern about dogs participating in tilling or watering activities. The satisfaction of knowing that no little Westie will be digging my carrots up any time soon. No Labs or Newfoundlands tromping about.

But, a new little challenge introduced herself a week or two ago and now hurries over from the yard next door nearly every time I visit the kitchen garden.

Her name is Nugget.

She thinks weeding is lots of fun, jumping up in the air to catch the little weeds as I toss them. And she shows great curiosity for insect activity and chipmunk holes; I think she’s making a neighborly effort to show off her relevant garden skills.

She’s especially fond of the bean and tomato raised beds, attracted (I think) to the warm, soft, moist, oh-so-diggable compost-rich soil. It wasn’t really too much of a problem until the tomatoes were planted and the beans were sprouting. It’s starting to become a problem now.

So, I’m trying to distract her with catnip.

It’s not working.

I may transplant a catmint plant from another part of the yard, in hopes that she’ll like to spend her time rolling in that as other neighborhood cats have done over the years. Anything to get her mind off of tomatoes and beans.

Other than a few tell-tale holes and some missing bush bean sprouts, she’s done no real damage yet, so I’m not too cranky about her tilling. I’m also hopeful that she’ll give it up when everything is properly mulched, and the digging isn’t so easy.

And, besides, we’re friends.

Nugget would like to explore the rest of the yard, but respects the gate as a reminder that it’s private property. She seems to be of the opinion that this front yard garden project of mine is there for her entertainment, and she’s most appreciative. When she’s not busy being helpful, she’s rolling over under my feet, purring in delight at her good fortune to have found a garden (and a gardener) of her very own.

Until I pass back through that scary gate, leaving her to the tilling activity that modesty demands she do in private.

Do you have any ideas for gently redirecting Nugget out of the tomato and bean beds?