By all sensible wisdom, I should not be happy to have a bunny in the backyard. A single cuddly critter can wreak havoc with the vegetation, in just a few sittings. (It’s nowhere near the massacre a single groundhog can commit in just one night, but it’s close.) This little rabbit, however, is too small to do very much damage, and thus far he or she has been keeping to the weeds, which I appreciate.
While we won’t be inviting the less-than-fearsome rodent to stay anytime soon, we will tolerate its muted nibbling as the season draws to its close.
UPDATE:
Yesterday Andy found our little friend at the bottom of the pool, dead.
I suppose this means one of us is pregnant.
Shit.
