Posts Tagged "theory of wildlife"

Bunny Beyond Belief

Dear Kid,

It’s that time of year again. Yes, the rabbits are out. This thrills the Puppy who is eager (and by “eager” I mean desperate) to make a friend. It is less thrilling for Dad who is not eager to share his garden bounty.

This year, the rabbit likes hiding under the holly bush in the morning and foraging in the backyard in the evening.

For reasons that seem fairly obvious, the holly bush with its prickly leaves feels like a safe place for the bunny. For reasons I don’t understand, the rabbit does not seem to be bothered by the evening mosquitoes. Which is good because I doubt the rabbit would hold still for hydrocortisone.

Turns out that rabbits have just about three-sixty vision (the better to see predators while you’re picking lettuce). Their only blind spot is right in front of their nose. Which leads to a certain irony when they misplace something.

With the exception of the rabbit in The Secret Life of Pets (we saw the movie this weekend) and possibly Peter Rabbit, rabbits are affectionate little dudes. Snowball, the psycho rabbit in Secret Life (definitely one of my favorite characters), was determined to eliminate all humans. Most rabbits (a la Peter) spend their time plotting to eliminate Dad’s garden. (Seriously, there are rabbit seminars on the specific topic of your father’s garden.)

Jackrabbits, which belong to the genus “Lepus,” have been clocked at speeds of 45 miles per hour. Jillrabbits, which belong to the genius “Of course I know the answer,” have been watched (get it? watch? clock?) even faster.

New word of the day: crepuscular. As in “rabbits are crepuscular.” Which means they are most active at dawn and at dusk and when being chased by an overly friendly puppy.

WHAT? I would never eat my own poop. Yeah. That's it. Never. It must have been somebunny else.

Rabbits can’t vomit, even after a night of raucous drinking. This is important because they eat their food twice. Like cows, except grosser. Cows burp up their cud and rechew it for digestive purposes. Rabits poop their first attempt at the food, then “reingest” (which means “eat their poop”) to be sure they’ve gotten all the nutrition they can from that particular lump of grass. Or clover. Or whatever.


On the plus side, they are dang cute.

Love, Mom

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Oh, the Horror | I Can Never Go Into Our House Again

Dear Kid,

I can never go into my bedroom again.

Might be I can never even go into the house again, but we’ll have to see about that.

You know I have this thing about minding my own business—unless someone else’s business is Interesting (which—truth be told—doesn’t happen all that often).

Mom's Theory of Legs 4 or less is good. Possibly even adorable. More than 4 is highly problematic and likely to cause screaming. DearKidLoveMom.comSo there I was, in our bedroom, minding my own business (and by “minding my own business” I mean quietly putting on makeup and contemplating the day ahead) when Out Of Nowhere appeared a bug. I screeched.

I think you know my theory about wildlife: It belongs in the wild. My house is most certainly not The Wild (although there are people who claim that by harboring Dust Dragons and other Chaos I do not exactly have the calmest of homes).

I think you also know my theory about legs: Four or fewer legs is just dandy. More than that is EEEEEEEEEEK! and SOMEONE DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS SITUATION!!!!!

I do not like bugs in general.

And this one had more than the usual allotment of legs.

Far more.

Far, far.

Far, far, far.

And let me tell you, that sucker knows how to use those little legs. It is one fast horrid little creature.

Oh, you noticed I didn’t use the past tense? That’s the problem.

As I reached for something (other than the mascara I was holding) to deal a death blow, that bug scooted.

Not only did it scoot, it scooted INTO MY NIGHTSTAND DRAWER!

I screeched (for the second time) but apparently multi-legged evilness is deaf, or perhaps it was running away from the screech. I don’t know much (and by “much” I mean anything) about bug audiology. What I do know is that the damn thing was spotted going into the nightstand drawer and has not been spotted coming out of said drawer.

I’ll be sleeping on the couch. Or possibly in the next county.

Love, Mom


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