It all began Tuesday at about 11am when I drove in from the airport. I knew that Tom had left the trap with the usual peanut butter saltine cracker on Sunday morning. And sure enough, within hours, one was in there. Debbie, our "shoot the rabbits and squirrels" neighbor noticed and texted Tom. I did not get home for 48 hours but the squirrel had not lost much energy. He was as nuts as ever in the trap.
I had a surprise though. Keeping the squirrel company there by the iron stove stood a good sized rabbit. I chased him and cornered him or as it turns out "a her" near the Baileys. The idiot squirrel kept running into the chicken wire to get out. I thought, "Is he a shape-shifter or something? How did he get through the chicken wire??"
I went inside the house and fumed a bit, thinking, "I am not re-locating the squirrel. But what to do? We no longer had our friends' pellet gun. So I texted Marodi. The week before I'd had an entertaining conversation with her at her mother's house around the corner. We discussed how her Italian husband was quite the hunter and taking our rabbits left and right near their home in our neighborhood. I said to her at that time, "Could I borrow him and his pellet gun sometime?"
Marodi replied to my text and told me to text Brian. He replied that he'd try to come over that evening. I was hopeful.
Later in the afternoon, I did my perimeter check of the garden to discover that all the green bean sprouts that looked great a few days before had been eaten. And there was a tunnel about 12 inches long in the garden where that wabbit had been connecting with that trapped squirrel. The wabbit had not been lounging but digging. There was a big pile of dirt next to the entrance to the tunnel. The dirt there was like a rock but the rabbit had tunneled just like a machine. What was going on? And where ws that dern wabbit?
I continued to fume. I cut some lettuce and spinach, made myself a salad about 6pm, sat down on the deck and saw movement near the garden. A small rabbit, about 6 inches was munching happily on the grass. I chased him and he disappeared somewhere. Where? More on that in part three of this saga.
About 7:45, Brian showed up with his impressive pellet gun. It was heavy and had a scope. I glanced around nervously hoping none of the neighbors would notice an Italian-looking young man with a big gun walking into my house. "She's finally gone and done it. She's taking out Tom."
I brought the trap up near the house and Brian put the squirrel out of it's misery. We sat down for some limoncello and homemade biscotti just as his mother in law, Carol, arrived, walking over from her house with her glass of wine.
As dusk approached, Brian said, "Look over at your neighbor's yard. There is a big rabbit munching on grass right in front of their patio." Sure enough. I really like these neighbors, Petra is a talented gardener and has given me great advice. I sit on my deck and enjoy her poppies, peonies, petunias and other flora and fauna from my "summer office." We often chit-chat over our split rail fence.
Without saying a word, Brian got up with his gun. He walked over to the fence and "pop." The rabbit was dead, shot in the head. It was an impressive shot from that distance...but this was not my yard and Petra and her family are not hunters. They don't mind the destructive antics of the squirrels and rabbits.
Maybe it was the effect of the limoncello, maybe it was the euphoria that maybe the rabbit that took out my beans was no more. Whatever, I did not care about the dead rabbit in their yard.
However, about five minutes later, Petra's daughter, who is a niceyoung lady came outside with their little dog. I jumped up and ran to the fence, "Mindy! How are you?" She picked up the dog and we talked a bit.
I went back to the deck, heart pumping. Carol and I were in a little bit of a panic. Had she seen the rabbit? I said, "Oh, maybe a hawk will get the dead rabbit by morning." Brian, who is a man of few words, quietly got up from the table, picked up his gun and went in the house. I didn't ask him where he was going. Carol and I stifled laughter and continued enjoying the cool evening. Suddenly we looked up to the neighbor's yard. Brian was running across the yard, holding the dead rabbit by it's legs. He leaped over the fence, silently depositing the dead rabbit next to the squirrel!
Carol and I were in happy shock. "Brian!" I said, "I can't believe you did that, but thanks. Maybe they never noticed the dead rabbit and you were able to shoot and take the evidence." We had more limoncello and I just reveled in the thrill that there was one less rabbit in the neighborhood.
We put the squirrel and rabbit in a bag. Carol took a picture of me with my trophies. I walked Brian and Carol outside to the street. Carol said, "I've not had so much fun in a long time." I gave Brian a hug, thanked him again and he got in the cab with his gun.
As he started slowly down the street Carol said, "Oh no! He is going to get in trouble. He trolls the neighborhood and shoots the rabbits from his truck." We walked back to the house and noticed that the truck had stopped just a few houses up the street. We heard the "Pop" and "Got him." We burst out laughing and ran in the house.
A few minutes later Brian texted us, "I got seven on my way home."
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