Not that I’m a huge fan, but it does seem as though both slugs (the creatures) and the use of the word “slug” (“get up, sweet slug-a-bed”) are incorrectly connected with slowness, grogginess, and general incapacity.
My observations of slugs indicate just the opposite. My husband and I were sitting in the garden yesterday and he spotted a slug crawling up a container. He flicked it off, but then just a minute or so later, it had once again reached the rim of the pot. When you look at it, a slug’s progress does seem somewhat laborious, but it gets a lot accomplished in a lot of different places in the garden. I have the perforated leaves to prove it.
They seem to have their preferences. They love coleus, lamium, and sweet potato vine, but never touch any of my hostas, elephant ear, or ferns. I think these may be too tough for them, but I’m not sure.
And what to do about it? So far, I have done nothing. In the past, I’ve tried the saucers filled with beer, but they’re distasteful to empty and the wisdom is that they may actually attract more slugs than you would otherwise have in your garden. Last year I sprinkled Sluggo around the plants that were hit the hardest and where the damage was the most noticeable. It’s supposed to be relatively harmless, but I really don’t know. Then, there is the solution of placing fine-grained gravel around the plants, which hurts their little slug bodies, so they avoid it. I like that the best, I think. Another that sound like too much trouble is the collar about the plant stem.
I can’t say I hate slugs that much—they’re fascinating creatures. But I know the time is coming when enough will be enough and I’ll have to do something.