Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

Here is is turns out the bunnies took it damn bunnies sweatdrop

Bob Rybarczyk
>
> When I was a kid, I loved bunnies. What kid doesn’t? There’s so much to love
about bunnies. Bunnies is fuzzy. Bunnies is fat. Bunnies is munchy. I sure did
love those bunnies.
>
> The key word in that sentence, you see, is “did.”
>
> These days, when I see a bunnies, I want to run up to it and kick its stupid
little fuzzy head clean off, then shove the gory torso onto a spike in my front
yard as a horrific warning to all the other little fuzzy bunnies.
>
> Same goes for squirrels. And chipmunks. They think they’re all cute and
innocent and stuff. Smug little punks. They have everyone fooled. The kids think
it’s awesome that our yard seems to be constantly swarming with fuzzy bunnies
and fuzzy squirrels and fuzzy chipmunks. I don’t. Not any more.
>
> You know what I see when I look out my window and see a yard full of gentle
woodland creatures? I see what military calls a “target-rich environment.” They
aren’t gentle woodland creatures; they are things that need to be impacted by
warheads. They are the enemy.
>
> You may be wondering how I, an easygoing guy by nature, am able to harbor such
homicidal thoughts about Mother Nature’s most adorable citizens.
>
> You want to know why? I’ll tell you why.
>
> The little mothers are trashing my garden, that’s why.
>
> Pardon me, but might I borrow your semi-automatic assault rifle?
>
> If you’re any kind of gardener, you know what I’m talking about. Not that I
can really call myself a gardener. I can’t. Not really. But I’m dabbling in it.
This year, for the first time ever, Colette and I decided to shell out a few
bucks to put some new plants in our yard.
>
> Actually, we had to shell out more than just a few bucks. Plants, I
discovered, are expensive. As a result, we weren’t able to get everything we
originally wanted, but we got enough to fill the garden in front of our porch.
We bought a couple different kinds of decorative bushes, along with some
petunias to give everything some color.
>
> After we bought everything, we had to wait a few days to plant, because we
happened to buy the stuff on a rainy weekend. We left all the new flowers on the
back patio, in their little plastic containers. A little while later, when the
rain had taken a break, Colette happened to look out the window at our freshly
purchased plants.
>
> And that’s when the shrieking began. Colette yelled, suddenly heading for the
back door.
>
> “What is it?” I asked.
>
> “The bunnies are eating the flowers!” she yelled.
>
> I looked out the window. Sure enough, two big fat bunnies were plunked down
next to the flowers and were munching away (bunnies is munchy) on our petunias.
It was like watching a couple of truckers at the counter in a greasy-spoon
diner.
>
> Except in this case, the truckers were eating my money.
>
> I was once again reminded of how unfair it is that I have not yet somehow
acquired super powers. Bunnies don’t come back once they’ve seen one of their
homeboys fried by heat vision.
>
> Of course, the bunnies bolted as soon as we came bursting through the back
door. And of course they got away scot-free (bunnies is speedy). We moved the
plants to a table, out of the bunnies’ reach, and the battle was won.
>
> Little did I know how short-lived our victory would be.
>
> Now I know how they got so fat
>
> The next weekend, the weather was better and we were able to plant all our
flowers. And you know, they made our garden look really nice. Again, I’m not
really a hardcore gardener, but I did appreciate how nice everything looked.
>
> But when I went outside the following morning to water the new plants, I was
horror-stricken. All the flowers on the petunias were gone. Every last one of
them. Not only that, but the remaining stalks had been partially snarfed as
well. I couldn’t believe it. I figured the bunnies would munch a couple things
here and there, but I didn’t think they’d clean us out. It was like looking at
the inside of a convenience store after it’s been looted by rioters.
>
> Not only that, but there, in the middle of our garden, was a fuzzy squirrel.
It was furiously pounding its head into the ground right next to one of the
petunias, effectively digging a big hole right next to what remained of one of
my brand new flower stumps. Why it was digging a hole, I didn’t know, and I
didn’t care. All I know is it was making my already trashed garden look even
trashier.
>
> “Hey,” I said.
>
> The squirrel stopped and looked at me. Clumps of garden sat on its head. I
could tell by its expression that if it could have spoken, it would have asked
why I was bothering it, and probably would have called me “dill-weed.”
>
> Well, I don’t take that kind of mess from anyone. “Hyaa!” I shouted, waving my
arms and walking toward the little furry maggot. “Get out of here!” Intimidated
by my awesome display of power, the squirrel bolted up the nearest tree.
>
> At the same time, to my surprise, three gigantic bunnies bolted from
underneath the big bush next to my garden. I’d had no idea they were there.
Unlike the squirrel, which continued to haul butt, the bunnies just ran to the
edge of my yard and stopped.
>
> They sat and stared at me.
>
> I stared right back.
>
> We munched all your tasty plants, chump, their eyes said. And we’ll be back.
>
> If I ever catch you, my eyes said back, I’m going to rip out your spinal cords
and use them to hang your mutilated corpses from the nearest tree.
>
> Whatever, dude, their eyes said. Bunnies is speedy.
>
> And then, to prove their point, they dashed away, their stupid little fluffy
white tails bobbing taunts at me.
>
> I watched them go, my fists clenched in impotent rage. Where are all the
bunnies-eating hawks when you need one?
>
> Stupid bunnies. Stupid, fuzzy, evil bunnies.
>
> Next year I’m planting land mines.