Bunny season in the suburbs

Our first litter of bunnies is all grown up. Yesterday, just as DH was getting ready to mow the lawn, they scrambled out of their burrow and tried out their hopping skills.

I found him out front with the trimmer, muttering about how is he supposed to mow the lawn when he can't see the baby bunnies in the grass. Yes, I do believe for a moment he was more worried about possibly running over a bunny with the mower than in tripping in the now empty burrow.

Under normal circumstances, we generally leave "our" bunnies alone. When I discover a burrow in the back yard, I only take note of it for lawn mowing purposes. And I check, just once, to count them (in such cases as when they all scramble while mowing is in progress!). Otherwise, I'm all about the circle of life, and whether they all survive or not is not my business. If the eagle comes back and happens to catch one or two, as long as I'm not a witness to any such murder, it's all right with me. The circle of life ... it's fascinating.

But the lawn mower is not a part of that circle. So I went out back, and one by one, I found them, picked them up and carried them over to the safety of the shed. All except one. He got himself into a corner by a fence post that I just couldn't reach. But I figured he was scared enough to stay put for the mowing, which he did. The rest of them didn't take much effort. Their hopping skills were sorely in need of practice.

Later in the afternoon I let the boys in on his hiding place, so they could get a close up peek. And he got a little adventurous and tried to out hop them. Poor guy didn't get far in our fenced in yard. I finally had to step in and save the last bunny from some over zealous petting, and he too joined the rest of the litter under the shed. From there, they have only a short hop to the back fence, which they can easily slip under, and then on to the tall grass.

And now I watch for our next litter. Because it's bunny season in our back yard.