Bugs Bunny bugs me

Country Notebook

By Rogene "Jeannie" McPherson

Journal columnist

Bugs Bunny as a cartoon character bugs me because of his arrogance, but for the purposes of this story, No. 4 in the series of what bugs me, it’s the real-life bunny rabbits that bug me. I drive onto my property, day or night, and I usually count eight to 10 rabbits running in fear of their lives. They don’t really have anything to worry about, because the only creatures I destroy are rattlesnakes and armadillos.

But if I could shoot a gun, I might rethink my position on rabbits.

Rabbits seem to think they own the place. In other words, like Bugs Bunny they are arrogant. I enjoy geraniums. Even when planted in a pot near my front door, that same night, the rabbits make a salad with the main ingredient, my geraniums.  When rabbits chew off a plant stem, their bite pattern looks like a slanted scissor cut. Not straight across the stem, but on an angle.

Due to rabbit behavior, I prefer to not pay full price for plants like geraniums and have been known to propagate my geraniums during the winter. A rabbit doesn’t know if I spent 25 cents or $12.99 per plant, and I can assure you I’ve never paid a quarter for a geranium unless it was already dead. I am experimenting with garlic powder in hopes this is not a preferred scent on their salad and instead they hop on down the road.

Here’s another example of a rabbit’s arrogance, an Aesop fable about a tortoise and a hare. For all practical purposes, in my illustration, I encourage the reader to think of the hare as the rabbit and the tortoise as a turtle. There are distinct differences, and if you’re so inclined to discover what those are, I encourage you to use your fingers to search the internet.

In the story, the rabbit brags about being a fast runner. When I see a rabbit blinded by my headlights, I tend to agree. Recently, I watched a turtle waddle across my backyard and onto my concrete patio. Rainwater pools in one area thus the turtle had access to moisture and without moving much, the opportunity to dine on insects attracted to the outside lights. I tend to agree the turtle’s movement is slow.

Back to the fable, typically a story with a purpose. The turtle gets tired of hearing the rabbit brag about his ability to run fast and challenges him to a race. As expected, the rabbit outpaced the turtle early in the race, and decides since he is winning to take a nap. The rabbit’s over-confidence cost him the race because he over-slept. While the turtle was slow, he was also steady and he crossed the finish line before the rabbit, illustrating carelessness is not a virtue we should strive for in our lives, nor is bragging.

The turtle who walked up into my yard was fun to watch, but I wondered if he was either good at catching insects, lazy, or old. He stayed for about three days, primarily in one location. Then during one of our recent rainstorms, the turtle apparently decided to seek higher ground, which then reminded me of my mother-in-law, bless her heart.

Maybe she was creating her own fable when she told my kids that if they saw a turtle walking up the road, it would rain. If the turtle was walking down the hill, it would not rain. Much laughter has been shared between our family whenever we see a turtle. Maybe it was not so much a fable as a way for my children to remember through laughter their grandmother. Her purpose was to love and be loved. She was neither arrogant or over-confident. I think it worked, because I always think of Rosie when I see a turtle and smile about her generosity and genuineness.

A turtle may seek bugs, but they don’t bug me. A big difference.