Bunnies in the Backyard

Last summer while dumping vegetable scraps into the compost, a baby rabbit hopped out from under the cedar hedge. The teacup-sized ball of fur stopped and rested by my foot, taking time to sniff my sandals and toes (a very odd though cool sensation). I waited until he moved on before I left, worried that if I stayed, the mother wouldn't come out to protect her baby. Protect the baby from what, you ask? The storm that was brewing.

The skies had darkened, and the wind whipped the blossoms into a swirl of colour. Back in the house, I watched as rain, the size of dimes, pelted down. When the skies cleared, I searched under plants and bushes to make sure the bunny hadn't been hurt in the storm. I couldn't find him, but I thought about that little guy for weeks.

For the past few winters, a rabbit has been visiting my yard (I know it's only one rabbit--I've seen him at dawn and dusk, but with all the poop he leaves, it could very well be 100 rabbits). Last year, he munched on my euonymus. This year, he's dined on the Japanese Maple I planted in the summer. Hoping to draw his attention from my garden, I've decided to feed the rabbit some of the vegetable scraps that I can no longer put into my compost because it's frozen shut. I also add other goodies like cooked rice, bread (cut into bite-sized pieces), and shelled sunflower seeds. I figure if he doesn't eat the stuff, the birds will.

Of course, the downside to feeding the rabbit is that when he doesn't eat what I've left, I'll know that something has happened to him--perhaps a fox or a car or the cold. On Christmas day, I put out some carrots, and they're still there. I'm hoping one of my neighbours, just as nutty as I am, is also feeding him, so the rabbit has no need to dine in my backyard.

The heavy snowfalls and bitter cold (it's -20c/-4F today) must make it difficult for all animals who haven't bedded down for the winter, so I'll put more food out today. I'm sure something will eat it.