As it happens, I’m re-reading Watership Down and that’s a lucky thing for the rabbits that think my vegetable garden is their all-you-can-eat buffet.
They’ve been nibbling on my beets and kale and I just want to …
But violence is not the answer.
In the book the rabbits are the underdogs, making their way across dangerous forests and rivers and farms and roads to find a field that’s thick with clover and places to burrow to live their lives in peace.
They are clever rabbits, brave, stronger than they knew and I’m rooting for them on their impossible quest.
I remind myself that could be Fiver or Hazel eating my bean stalks, so I don’t wish them any harm.
And I don’t mind them in my yard. There’s clover in the grass. Munch away. But could you please just leave my garden alone?
Last summer I had a less sympathetic view.
I carefully chose my plants at the nursery, amended the garden soil, planted my “babies,” watered them well and wished them all a good night.
The very next day all the tops of my pepper plants had been chomped off, leaving a half-inch stem that never amounted to anything. My eggplant plant – a new experiment for me – was also chewed to nothing.
Lettuce, spinach, zucchini – none for you Joanne.
So I spent the winter researching solutions for my rabbit problem.
There were many suggestions online as you can imagine. I drew the line at the shotgun approach and decided to go with rabbit fence.
The fencing itself is billed specifically for rabbits and the online reviews were positive. The grid pattern is tight at the bottom and becomes more open at the top making it better than chicken wire, so the description said.
It’s not hard to install and not that expensive in the grand scheme of things. But it was hot when I got going and I immediately regretted my decision to enlarge the garden at the same time.
The fencing has to extend below the surface so rabbits can’t dig underneath and get in that way. I had to dig a trench around the garden – now 12 by 18 feet – bury the bottom of the wire fence material and attach it to the posts – a job I did over two weekends.
Then I planted my vegetables, babied them through that stretch of heat and drought, and rejoiced at the rain that finally came. Things were finally growing.
And then one morning I looked, and two rows of beets were gone.
Kale leaves had been nibbled to the stem; two zucchinis that had only started to form had vanished. Same for the snow peas that had barely started to climb the string.
And later that day I saw a rabbit right in the middle of the veggie patch.
I hollered and banged the fence and he jumped right through the biggest grid of that rabbit proof fence.
That’s not Fiver, I thought. That’s Bugs Bunny, wascally little thing.
Lucky for me I had some leftover material so I have doubled up the fence and shrunk those gaps. The only way in now is over the fence.
I hope it’s high enough.
I will patrol the perimeter, check for evidence of attempted entry and fortify the weak points.
And worry a widdle bit that I’m becoming Elmer Fudd.
