Archive for Sunday, June 5, 2011

Boomer Girl Diary: Wretched wabbits

June 5, 2011


OK, if you must know, I’m a bunny hater.

This kind and gentle soul of the ’70s who knew every word to “Bless the Beasts and Children” — the bleeding-hearted hippie girl who could never hurt a fly, much less an adorable, hippity-hoppity wabbit — has grown b-b-b-bad to the bone.

Hating bunnies. Is there a faster, more direct, one-way ticket to Hell than that?

But, I do. I hate them. I loathe them so much, I’m taking it out on the dog.

“Go get ‘em, Lucy!” I cry, hopefully, as I release her to the outdoors where four young rabbits brazenly gnaw the last of my portulacas.

She sprints after them, as fast as her little cocker spaniel legs can carry her, but to no avail. Those hateful hares scatter in all directions, darting under the deck, through the fence, behind the shed and into the neighbors’ yard.

Lucy slinks back to the house, frustrated and ashamed. I feel sorry for her, but I can’t contain my disappointment.

“You ain’t NEVER caught a rabbit, and you ain’t no friend of mine,” I say, disapprovingly.

(There’s no guilt so deep as the bunny-hating/dog-shaming variety. Unless you throw spoiling-your-kids into the mix.)

It’s a whole new level of mean to hate bunnies — unlike other yard varmints such as squirrels, opossums and skunks — especially when one was raised on Beatrix Potter. As a preschooler, I adored the tale of Peter Rabbit and his sisters, Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail. My first “big girl bed” was painted with their cuddly likenesses. Now, at 55, I’ve morphed into Mr. McGregor, chasing those pesky pests around with a garden hoe.

Still, I’m haunted by that Carpenters’ song: “Bless the beasts and the children, for in this world, they have no voice. They have no choice.”

I’ve even started planning their demise in my dreams. Sometimes, I’ll force a scared rabbit to walk the plank, poking its furry white tail with my dandelion weeder.

“Say your prayers, Little Bunny Foo Foo!” I snarl. “You’re going overboard!”

Other times, I’ll slip a noose around its neck, or give the order to execute the critter by firing squad.

“READY ... AIM ...”

Before I can complete the command, he looks at me, helpless, those big rabbit eyes piercing my own. Karen and Richard pop back into my brain:

“Bless the beasts and the children. Give them shelter from the storm. Keep them safe. Keep them warm.”

The bunny guilt! I can’t stand it! I run to the rabbit, arms outstretched, and place a tiny black hood over his little head.

“FIRE!!” I scream. And the guns blaze.

That’s just in my fantasy life, of course. In reality, I scream “Shoo,” wave my arms like a madwoman, and put rubber snakes in the flower beds.

Sometimes, I’ll stand there counting like I used to do with the kids: “I’ll give you the count of three to hightail it out of this yard: One ... two … two-and-a-half … two-and-three-quarters.” (Never worked with the kids; doesn’t work with rabbits.) Occasionally, I’ll pick up a rock and pretend to throw it. But, my form is so bad, even the bunnies know I couldn’t hit the side of a barn.

It’s gotten so bad, I’ve come to resent ALL rabbits: Bugs, Br’er, Roger, Jessica. I’ve already canceled Easter next year. The other day, I took the Energizer batteries out of the remote and replaced them with generics, just for spite.

I’m glad my father isn’t alive to see this. The man had a thing for Thumper. Not in a sick, kinky way, but in the way a normal adult male can be overcome by the cuteness of a Disney forest creature. (It happens.) Dad memorized every line that darling rabbit ever uttered in “Bambi.” And when Thumper became “twitterpated,” thwacking his hind foot like a little jackhammer, the old man fell to pieces.

I’m sorry about this rant. I really am. It’s just that the bunnies living under our deck have destroyed about a hundred dollars worth of plants this spring. Don’t they know gas is approaching four bucks a gallon? Money is tight! Like Elmer Fudd, I think I’ve got a right to stew a little.

Wait a minute! Did someone say “stew”? Here, wabbit, wabbit, wabbit ...

— Cathy Hamilton is a public relations and marketing consultant, author of 16 books and blogger at Contact her at


Kris Adair 6 years, 11 months ago

We are so mad at the bunnies we have made a little spicy spray to coat the remaining veggie plants. Audrey went out to spray all our plants this morning.

cjeter 6 years, 11 months ago

I've found a pellet gun works well. The bonus is rabbit is good eating, with the weather warm though just make sure it doesn't have boils.

Bob Forer 6 years, 11 months ago

My house is surrounded by trees and other vegetation and is the home to several bunnies--I don't know how many. They are harmless, except for the frustration given my little Papillon who tries and tries, but has never come close to catching up with one of these quick little critters.

Who would want to hurt a cute little bunny rabbit?

LadyJ 6 years, 11 months ago

Plant a garden for the bunnies on the other side of the yard.

Currant 6 years, 11 months ago

Rabbits, while cute, are not the brightest. Sadly, we've had at least two years of mama bunny making her nest in our yard, seemingly oblivious to our two dogs. We often scratch our heads over why we have two dogs, but they are a lean, mean, bunny hunting machine when they work in tandem.

PennyBrite 6 years, 11 months ago

I can handle the bunnies in the yard. But they have recently been coming up to our deck -- they just hop up the steps -- and eat the flowers in my pots. Something's going to have to change......

LadyJ 6 years, 11 months ago

Think we better start worrying about deer, two accidents in town already. My husband said he saw one racing across the road at 15th and Kentucky today.

somedude20 6 years, 11 months ago

maybe we should run to da choppa and shoot dem bunnies down like feral hogs, we don't like them sort of things in Merica!

ilovelucy 6 years, 11 months ago

Cathy: have a friend who has a cat brush the cat out and give you the fur. Spread that around your veggies and flowers. Bunnies won't come near anything that smells like cats.

oldvet 6 years, 11 months ago

Keep the dog inside and put out a bowl of green antifreeze at night... just be absolutely sure to pick it up before you let the dog out in the morning...

Commenting has been disabled for this item.