This past weekend, my boyfriend and I were at a birthday party in suburban Seattle. The home hosting the party had a beautiful and large garden. Just like you'd expect in the Northwest—full of hostas, ferns, evergreen trees, lots of leafy, green, vibrant plants. And as I walked in from my car, I noticed a little athletic gray bunny with sharp ears and a sassy expression that said, "I'm not afraid of you, human."
I told the woman of the household—a dynamic, energetic, powerhouse in her 60s who loves her garden—that I had seen a bunny in her yard on my way in, and she said, "Did you kill it?" I was a little taken aback. But I've heard enough horror stories of rabbits and deer destroying yards to understand what she was getting at. Apparently, the sweet little fuzzy one ate all of her irises before they even had a chance to bud, and now he's moved on to other prized blooms. So, not being a natural hunter, she was reluctant to fully "attack" the problem and didn't quite know how to handle it.
Well, today, there is an article in the New York Times about other gardeners with the same problem. Here's a quote I liked:
"Finally, [he] decided he would have to shoot the animals. First, though, he went to each hole and made an announcement.
'I said: ‘I intend to kill you. You have 24 hours to get out,’' he recalls. 'I wanted to give them fair warning. I said, ‘If I were you, I would find another place to live.’ I also promised them I would not take a shot unless I knew it would be fatal.'"
Image from the article as well.