I just came back from a clay expedition when I heard rustling coming from my flowerbed!
I approached and lo! A seemingly homeless person was rolling around, ripping my flowers. I think he was drunk, or possibly high...
Reflexively, I yelled 'Thief!', thinking he was there to steal my belonging, and he immediately froze, and panicked he fled. I soon realized the flowerbeds were outside my claim, and the poor homeless boy was simply looking for something to break the wind's harsh howling.
So I say, 'Come back Mr. Hobo! I meant no harm to you! Looking at the quality of the remnants of my ripped flowers, you SUCK at farming, I'll help!'.
Here's a pic of where it happened: