Bunny Stew

Meet Pierce. He came with the house. The neighbors tried for a couple of years before we moved in to trap Pierce and relocate him. The neighbors' dogs wanted to get in on the act, too, only they were more interested in permanently changing Pierce's molecular structure. That's how Pierce acquired the ear modification, hence the name.

We didn't mind Pierce nibbling on our grass. He stayed out of our way, and we stayed out of his.

Suddenly, a second bunny began munching on the grass. AND the flowers. The two bunnies were inseperable. Now we were worried. Well, perhaps perturbed is a better word. One plus one in bunny speak means way more than than two, and we did not want our home to become the bunny soup kitchen.

We set traps. The pair, however, eluded us. We just couldn't catch them. And yet, six weeks later, still no babies.

We returned from Ride the Rockies to find Pierce and The Girlfriend making themselves at home in my veggie garden. Flattened flowers made me angry; corn stalks chewed to the soil and trampled onions pushed me completely over the edge. I was ready to throw Pierce and his girlfriend into a pot of boiling water, along with whatever remained of my garden.

We arrived home one evening not long after chasing the bunnies out of the garden to find Pierce and The Girlfriend frolicking in the front yard. The Girlfriend was trying to nurse. And Pierce kicked fiercely to keep the old-enough-to-be-weened baby away.

I'd always thought Pierce was a boy because there were no babies we knew of. So much for logic.

We seized the opportunity to fortify the fence and gates, but I expect Pierce and offspring will find a way to get back in.

"You wanted to live on the edge of civilization," The Lizard reminded me.

Yes, I did. And I still do.

But I don't want to share my veggies!!!

Tweet

Pin It