rabbits

Something chewed a hole in the bottom of the rabbit gate a few days ago.  I wondered when I first saw the damage whether it had got caught up in the brambles by the entrance and ripped that way, as it's only plastic trellis, not wire netting, but there really weren't any brambles left growing within range and I'd done a pretty thorough job of clearing the debris away.  The Systems Administrator noticed the hole, and on examination pronounced it firmly to have been bitten through.  I assume that a rabbit coming in from our neighbour's field had got caught on the inside one afternoon when we shut the gate.  The alternative, that something bit its way in, is more worrying.  I darned the hole with some green plastic coated wire, and we'll see if it happens again.

We were half way through watching Good Morning Vietnam yesterday evening when there was a sudden rustling from the pile of cardboard recycling in the corner.  I assumed that one of the cats was trying to nest in there, but the SA, more suspicious, got up to investigate, followed by cries of Take it out!  Take it out now!

Our Ginger had caught a rabbit, pretty good going for a frankly chubby old boy who must be thirteen if he's a day.  He did not want to take his rabbit out, and the SA had to take it out for him. It was only a baby bunny, but that's one down, or it is if Our Ginger got it from the bottom lawn where the rabbits are living in the rose bank.  Even if he got it in the meadow it still counts, but not if he brought it in from the wood.  I've no ambition to eradicate the wild population, just the ones in the garden.

We returned to watching the film, and at the end of it discovered a trail of blood spots across the hall, but by then it was getting late and I said I'd clean them up in the morning.  The SA had better not disappear in mysterious circumstances, or I can imagine the scene with the police when they discover the blood stained tiles, and the investigating officer's disbelieving voice as I claim that they must be animal blood.  The tension would mount, until the moment when the Sergeant approaches the Inspector as he sits at his desk (maybe we could have a bit of Sibelius in one of his more anxious moments playing at this point) and says We've had the results from those stains back from Forensics, Sir.  Rabbit blood.

When I went upstairs this evening to change out of my gardening clothes and do my back exercises there was another teeny tiny rabbit, nibbling the lawn at the top of the rose bank.  I went and told the SA who fetched the air rifle, but the rabbit detected the sound or movement of the window opening, or maybe the strains of Classic FM drifting out, and bolted.