Bunnies Are Awfully Hairy

In the last year or so, we’ve had an influx of rabbits. And by influx, I mean “more than zero” which is what I would prefer. I don’t mind seeing the rabbits in winter because I think of them as coyote bait, helpfully luring said coyotes away from the lovely and plump Paco who would probably taste divine even without any seasoning. But now that the weather has gotten hot, I wish the rabbits would all just die.

Earlier this year I found two rabbits sitting together on the patch of land over the septic system, calmly eating the moss/clover that passes for grass in our yard. Now, though, I’m finding rabbits in the actual dog area, which I know only because in the two seconds after I let the dogs outside, they begin barking wildly and chasing the rabbit, which does this weird bouncing-off-the-chicken-wire dance before it finally makes it to safety under a piece of fencing.

I wasn’t sure why the rabbits were in the dog area because there really isn’t much clover, dirt, weeds, or anything that appears remotely interesting to a rabbit. Today, though, I found the attraction: the rabbits are showing up in the dog area because they have what appears to be a nest next to the poop bin.

Here’s a gardening tip for you: When you decide that raking consists of throwing the leaves into the strip of “landscaping” behind your house instead of dragging them all the way to the back of the shed because you mistakenly think somehow this is just like mulching only without the effort, this will cause large piles of leaves to form next to things like the poop bin.

And then one day such as today you will take the dogs outside and be carefully scrutinizing the yard for their poo when you turn around and spot Stanley with his head buried in the shrub next to the poop bin, apparently eating something that you discover, after yelling at him to get away, is a pile of what appears to be rabbit fur.

And you further see, as the dog is standing near you, rabbit fur still hanging from his mouth, that there is something moving amidst the pile of leaves, and now you are beginning to have visions of decapitated bunnies wiggling around or, even worse, maggots, and so you have to run inside the house and hide until your husband gets home and rakes off the top layer of leaves to find out what’s underneath.

Because while you may be a feminist, you also believe that there are certain things particular people do better than others and when it comes to possibly dead wildlife, your husband is going to be the one for the job.

So please, rake your leaves.

Posted by: Supersonic Jane | April 24, 2007 | 4:17 pm
Posted in: This Life