While mowing the last of the six pastures, I ponder the state of my garden.
Many of the tomato plants that I'd lovingly transplanted were now just twigs standing upright in the dirt.
"Rabbits," the nursery man said before presenting me with two options: metal cans or a gun.
I'd never seen a bunny set foot in the garden, though in addition to the tomato plants, I noticed tooth marks in my lettuce leaves. Apparently my bunny is neither a fan of beets nor spinach.
As I ponder this, a half-grown rabbit jumps out of the fence row and in front of the tractor.
I think nothing of it. Surely the bunny will circle back and return to the hay field. But as I make the turn for home, the bunny jumps back in front of the tractor.
He continues to do this, getting closer and closer to the barn.
But he doesn't go to the barn. Instead, he squeezes through a hole in the fence and finds safety in my garden.
(Author's note: No photos with this post. As the wabbits are wily and only coming out at night... I presume).