It is not a blue heron that ate my fish.
Seriously. Unless they eat rabbits.
Remember when my fish got eaten and I went to the garden store and I told the guy my problem and he kept saying that it was a heron and wouldn't listen to my reasons why I thought it wasn't a heron but he sold me a $20 box of coyote pee to put around my pond anyway even if it was a heron and I was an idiot for not listening to his professional wisdom? Yeah, well, I kinda have proof that it isn't a heron that ate my fish after all.
This week, Sammy the Weiner Dog is here with us and he likes to go out in the yard in the evenings with me and the kitties. He's not big on just hanging out and doing sodoku puzzles, so he sorta just noses around the gardens and sees if he can find some wayward cat poop or bird food to eat.
I was harvesting my cabillionth basket of those damn cherry tomatoes when I noticed the dog was nuzzling around by me.
"Sammy, get outta there." I say, sorta just to make conversation with the dog and his butt was blocking my way to getting some handfuls (sigh) of ripe tomatoes.
But he wouldn't move. Sniffy McSniffer was apparently hot on the trail of something and he wasn't budging. I stood up to see what he was sniffing when I saw fur. A whole body of fur. And it wasn't mouse-size fur--it was....uh....big fur. Like bigger-than-a-squirrel fur.
Of course, being all naturey and I-love-the-earthy like I am, I did the natural thing....
I ran screaming all the way down the house.
Joe was out front laughing, going "What? What?" and "What did you find?" and I was all "It's a body! A furry body!!" and I was really loud so the whole neighborhood could hear. Except nobody came out to see what we were doing, I think they were all peering out their windows to see what wackiness was transpiring over the Duck House.
Either that or they were just thinking "Oh, criminy, there is that woman and her loud mouth again. Shut the window, Edith, and give me my oatmeal." Which is probably more the case.
Joe came running, Em came running out the door, and I just stood there--half afraid to see what was dead by my house. I kinda figured it was a rabbit, but I didn't want to look past the fur and the blood.
"It's a rabbit" Joe says with his face all sqwinched up, "I'll get a shovel." Which is Joe's immediate reaction whenever he finds something gross. Me--I want to run. Joe gets his shovel. We are a match made in heaven.
And then we go through the icky job of cleaning up carcass with squwinchy faces and "ewws" all around. Thank goodness it was garbage night.
So, here's this poor little bunny rabbit stopping by the Infamous Ever-Blooming Tomato Plant (that he read about on my blog) for a little breakfast and WHAMMO! He gets it by the neck. That damn tomato plant is gonna be the death of us all, I'm telling you.
And so, the plot thickens and the list of suspects are slowly narrowing down.
- Blue heron? Nope. Don't eat rabbits.
- Opossum? Nope. Scavengers--they don't kill their dinner and they aren't carnivorous.
- Raccoon? Ahhh, I'm not thinking so. They don't attack bunny rabbits in the morning for breakfast.
- Fox or Coyote---Nah. That's really a stretch.
- Black cat who has been coming around to fight with Grace? Hmmmm......