There's a certain cliche about rabbits doing something in excess. I assure you, they poop twice as often. We patched some obvious fence holes and ordered some organic wabbit wepellent. Which, turns out, is basically dehydrated blood and oregano. Apparently rabbits are supposed to flee from death and Italian food. Also, turns out, birds LOVE death and Italian food.
(You know that feeling that you're being watched?? Yeah, ALL THE TIME)
We were feeling pretty good. Still playing catch up on the weed pulling but the yard was looking less like a toilet/salad bar. Then slowly, I began spotting the evidence. Nothing like before, but, ya know.......a little pile here and there:
Befuddled, we concluded that surely, in our haste to secure our borders, we'd trapped an illegal WITHIN OUR FENCING. I had hunting on the bwain. The night before last, I climbed into bed and spotted one of the boys' flashlights on in their cozy coupe outside. Justin went to fetch it when we heard a rustling in the bushes. AHA - the WABBIT. We played flashlight tag with him for a while (poor dude) and finally cornered him in a flower patch. Justin opened a hole in the fence, prodded him out, and patched it up. Ahhhh...