Bunny Wars '07

The sun crept up over the neighbor's houses, shining brightly with the promise of a warm spring day full of gardening opportunities. I made my way outside to assess the situation left by another cold, but relatively harmless Nebraska winter. Armed with a spade, rake, and having donned the yard work gloves, I was just short of exploding with anticipation of what I hoped to be my greatest gardening season yet. As I stepped around the backyard tree and toward the garden, I began to realize there was much to be done in preparation for the Spring planting. Last year's tomato plants, though long past anything resembling life, remained in the ground and needed to be discarded to make way for the new ones to come. A few early-season weeds had already begun to appear, and the make-shift fence, designed to keep the bunnies out, needed to be re-staked and put into place. Deciding which task to complete first was all that slowed me from getting started.

And that's when I saw him. The creature most devastating to gardens everywhere. The most elusive and cunning of all in the backyard animal kingdom. The culprit behind countless hours of frustration and heartache. Mr. Bunny. The furry little cotton-tailed bastard just stood there, staring at me with a mouthful of MY mulch which I had so dutifully spread over the soil of MY garden just before the first snowfall of winter. I felt my grip on the shovel and rake tighten as a single bead of sweat found a trail down my forehead. His nose twitched at its usual astronomical rate, and those goddamn ears of his stood perked and ready for any move. Our battle-ready eyes locked on each other, and we stood there for what seemed an eternity, each of us waiting for the other to make a move.

I began talking to him in a low voice, threatening him with empty promises of utter destruction should he choose to attempt a claim on my garden. He was having none of my words, and stood poised to defend what he wrongly believed was his territory. I began to strategize and plan my next move. I didn't want to hurt him, but I wanted to send an unmistakable message that he was not welcome in this area of my yard. I'm a sympathetic guy, you see, and am more than willing to allow Mr. Bunny and his circle of acquaintances to house themselves under my shed, or under my deck, or virtually anywhere in my yard. Just not my garden. As I analyzed the situation, I glanced downward to find a hole already dug, right next to where the cucumbers were slated to be planted. The bastard already knew my garden design plans before I had even begun, and was building his Spring nest such that he had immediate access to MY fresh vegetables. I found myself in such shock at this bold move, that I let my guard down just long enough to step to the side and gain a better view of his early-season triumph. Mr. Bunny recognized his opportunity, and made a mad dash out of the garden and off to the other end of the yard where he was safely out of my grasp. The standoff had ended, but as he looked back over his shoulder at me, we both knew it was only the beginning of a long and tiresome backyard war. And so began Bunny Wars '07.

To the reader: If you are unfamiliar with Bunny Wars, allow me to provide an explanation. It all started four seasons ago when I realized my desires to join the ranks of the backyard green thumbs, and grow a vegetable garden. In the course of learning such a trade, I found that a major part of gardening is defending one's foliage against nature's elite. The biggest of these culprits is the bunny. They love fresh vegetables as much as I do, and will do their best to gain access to the garden and all but destroy it. I have taken some steps to prevent their efforts, but not without some trials and tribulations. Each year seems to be a bit different, as they are smart and persistent little buggers. Just when I think I've got a handle on the situation, they seem to strategize another angle which I have failed to anticipate.

A local columnist has encountered many of the same problems in his garden, and writes each season on his latest bunny malady. He termed his struggles Bunny Wars, and I have adopted the title only because I think it's a common theme amongst all gardeners. Disclaimer: Absolutely no bunnies, or any other animal for that matter, are hurt or damaged during the course of Bunny Wars. My intent is not to ruin the natural existence of wildlife in my backyard. I only want to keep said wildlife out of my damn garden! The creatures have full access to the rest of my yard, so I don't think I'm asking too much.