August 8, 2007
They call me Elmer Fudd. It’s too hot for an ear-flapped cap and plaid hunting jacket and, of course, shotguns are outlawed here in the 'burbs, but that aside, I do resemble the crabby curmudgeon whose fiery passion for catching that annoying rabbit consumed his every moment. And although the neighbors are enjoying it, my frustration level is rising along with the summertime temperatures, as I hop from one remedy to the next to protect my flowerbed. My neighborhood is overrun with the pesky Cottontails, which have devoured nearly all my plantings, and in a mere three weeks, wiped out my entire landscaping budget.
On Day One, they nibbled every blossom off the mum plants. On Day Two, they pigged out on the daisies and zinnias. On Day Three, I called several nurseries and checked the Internet for advice on how to salvage the sparse remains of what was supposed to be our best attempt yet at a flowerbed flourishing with color and lush greenery. On Day Four, they ate all the marigolds, a plant I had been advised wouldn’t appeal to rabbits. And so it went. Every day, the sneaky critters made their way into the flowerbed and did their nasty deed. And every other day, I tried something new.
As a service to my readership, and in an effort to assist others in the trial-and-error process of ridding their gardens of rabbits, I am listing all the things I’ve tried to squelch the feasts taking place daily in my backyard. I call this list Remedies For Rabbit Control, That Were Guaranteed To Work, That In Theory Seemed Valid, That In Reality Were Bogus, That Really Just Wasted My Time And Money:
• Planting furry, spiny and foul-smelling plants
• Putrefied egg granules
• Barrier of plastic netting staked around the garden’s perimeter
• Landscape anchors to secure the net
• Large rubber snake to scare the rabbits away
• Glass jars of water
• Predators’ urine
• Habanero sauce (made from the world’s hottest pepper)
• Bars of Dial or Irish Spring soap placed two feet apart
• Mechanical owl
• Tennis balls, baseballs, rubber balls, any balls to heave at the enemy
• Water gun, preferably a “Super Soaker”
• BB gun (with no intent to harm, of course)
• Sprinting toward the garden with arms waving, wailing like a banshee
OK, the last one cost me nothing and was actually kind of fun, so maybe it doesn’t count, but you get the idea. As a final, desperate long shot, I toyed with the idea of making my curried chicken casserole recipe and putting it near the flowerbed. My kids wouldn’t come within 50 feet of it. Maybe the rabbits wouldn’t either.
My neighbor stopped the madness a few days ago by informing me that her 6-year-old daughter had the summer gymnastics class in gales of laughter, as she shared the antics of her crazy neighbor lady, dressed in a bathrobe, hurling baseballs at bunnies at 8 a.m.
Fearing for my reputation, and exhausted from fighting the good fight, I have given up. As for the burst of color, a glance out the window at the flowerbed reveals a hint of bright blue – the Irish Spring – and that will have to do for now. Last night, I walked out to the flowerbed to take a look at the day’s damage. Smugly staring at me from inside the net barrier was a fat and happy Cottontail. “Go ahead, knock yourself out,” I said. “My treat.” Then I turned back toward the house. “Wascally Wabbit,” I grumbled.
Comments
patmcq (anonymous) says...
Wanna borrow a puppy to go after your wabbit? These wabbits are so big that my 70 pound, not too fit rottie-something has showed up at the back door with two critters too huge to escape through our link fence. I'm not fond of promoting predator instincts, but it's them or my hostas--and my dog loves my hostas.
August 8, 2007 at 6:16 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
Post a comment
Commenting requires registration.