The Bunnies

Two days ago, I stepped out of the house at 7 AM. A bunny sat in my yard, not moving anything except it's beady little eye on the side of its head. It didn't move as I walked by, not intimidated by my large human self or my fierce rabbit hunting dog. Finally, it took off for no reason other than it was ready to leave.

I inspected the ground where it had been sitting and discovered that it had dug a hole, as if it were planning on staying awhile. I planted petunias, but few have flowered. The bunnies dead-head them before they have a chance to make heads. I would like to dead head a few bunnies. The first year that we lived here, I was convinced someone was pruning our burning bushes. But, it was just bunnies, stripping the bark and leaves in a way that left a nicely shaped bush.

Yesterday, I took matters into my own hands. I had recently procured a gallon container of a noxious substance known as liquid fence. Filled with rotten egg solids and garlic, it promises to keep both the evil bunnies and the wicked deer away from my petunias, carnations and dianthus.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't prime the pump that came with the smelly product. Not realizing the lid had a hole that was larger than the hose that went through it, I gave the container a shake, hoping that would help. It didn't help. It hurt. I shook liquid fence all over my hands, pants and feet.

I finally decided to pour it into another spray bottle that has a history or working. The opening from the larger container was larger than the opening from the smaller container, but I persevered, and only got a little more on my hands.

No bunnies came near me yesterday. None sat in the yard and gave me the evil eye as it boldly dug holes. No matter where I went yesterday, the bunnies stayed away.

I do hate bunnies.