Oh, they look cute. But it’s a facade.
This might be more accurate.
I’ve been yarding a lot over the past week. A LOT. My hands are perma-dirty, and I have poison ivy on my wrist. I’m a little selfish — you see, I want the benefits of my hard work. Me. Me. Me. The benefits are veggies and flowers. The bunnies also want these benefits. Damn bunnies.
It started last weekend when I was walking through my yard with Carolyn. A bunny was spotted in my yard and the conversation went something like this:
Carolyn: “Awww….a bunny!”
Me: “Don’t ‘awww’ that bunny! That bunny wants to eat my veggies! That bunny is the enemy!”
Carolyn: “That bunny isn’t eating your veggies — it’s just eating your grass. Now you have bad bunny karma.”
***Fast forward a few days.*** [note: Carolyn was oh-so-right about the bunny karma thing]
I was weeding a flower/tree area near one of my veggie gardens (hereinafter referred to as garden #2 — not because it’s poopy in any way; just because it was the second garden planted) when I spotted some movement out of the corner of my eye.
I looked to the side. And I saw…a bunny INSIDE the supposedly impenetrable bunny fence surrounding garden #2!!
I knew I had to watch the bunny to figure out how it bypassed the fence. Meanwhile, the bunny is staring at me from the center of the garden, and I’m staring back. I knew I had to do something to get the bunny to hop out of the garden.
In retrospect, I should have used the hose to spray a little water on the bunny. I didn’t do this. I opted for my bottle of “rabbit fence” I purchased from Earl May last year. It’s coyote urine — the bunnies supposedly stay away from places it’s been sprayed because it smells like a predator is nearby. (Unfortunately, my bunnies are extra smart and have figured out that the urine hasn’t seen a coyote in some time.)
I sprayed the bunny with the urine. The bunny hopped out of garden #2, and I saw a teeny tiny opening in the fence. I also noticed something else.
The bunny hopped with a little bunny limp. My garden invader was a disabled bunny.
I have a guilty conscience. I blame my mother.
So, I instantly felt bad for the little bunny. Ok…maybe I didn’t feel that bad for the little furry critter — I did block the small fence opening with a brick.
But after I blocked the fence opening, I felt guilty about cutting off a disabled bunny’s food supply and spraying a disabled bunny with coyote urine. I envisioned the bunny going back to his/her bunny habitat and being shunned as the stinky bunny in the habitat.
I shared this tale with anyone who would listen, including John. I was extremely pleased when he put a much more positive spin on the situation.
According to his version of the story, my urine spray may have been the best thing to happen to the little limpy bunny. Here’s what probably happened (I prefer to believe this version of the story):
The limpy bunny traveled back to his/her home, and the other bunnies immediately noticed the smell. Limpy Bunny then recounted what happened — he/she was snacking when a coyote suddenly appeared. Limpy Bunny let out a ROAR which scared the piss right out of the coyote. So — Limpy Bunny took on a coyote and won! Limpy Bunny will become a bunny hero!
Yes — I like that version of the story.
Hopefully my garden is safe now.