I started putting my garden out last week. I’d started all my plants from seeds, nurtured them, loved them, and watched them grow. It was time to send them out on their own. I got the soil ready, planted them oh-so tenderly, then watered them just right. I was so proud of my work. I was kind of worried that they wouldn’t adapt well to their new home, but otherwise everything went well.
Until the other morning. I woke up to find my corn and peas eaten down to just stumps. A damned rabbit! The little bastard had a feast on my babies. Oh, I was livid. That evening when I took Otis out for his nightly constitutional he saw that rabbit and the chase was on. Normally I’d scold him for scaring the little fucker, but this time I was egging him on. The rabbit couldn’t find a way out of our yard (oh, that beautiful fence!) and just kept going around in circles. Finally, Mr. Thieving Cottontail found his way up the drive way and dashed up the sidewalk. Otis, thankfully, was smart enough to stop at the point. But that little fucker was coming back. I knew it. Something had to be done.
Luckily for the furry little devil I don’t kill things. So there’d be no poison put out or shots fired (can’t shoot in town anyway, but that is not the point. I looked for environmentally friendly ideas and found quite a few. So, yesterday I erected a fence around the garden, placed fake rattle snakes strategically around the perimeter (lodged in the fence so they’d move when the fence moved), brewed up some cayenne pepper and garlic tea which I sprayed around the more tasty looking plants (the ones that fucker didn’t already eat), and made TheMan pee at the corner posts. This morning there was no evidence that I’d been robbed. Unfortunately, I’ll never know which remedy really worked, because I decided to use all those measure, but who cares? Tonight TheMan will have to pee in a cup, dip q-tips in it, and then place the q-tips around my plants. Yes, it’s disgusting, and that’s why I’m not peeing in a cup.
In other news, Cock-eyed Bill is around again.
I was in the front yard planting some impatients (gods, I hate those, but Millie bought them for me and I just couldn’t refuse) when lo and behold Cock-eyed Bill goes by on a bike. I almost pissed myself laughing. I never did get a picture of Bill, but he’s downright comical. He’s in his 50’s, kind of tubby, wears the same slacks and white BVD t-shirt (every single day), doesn’t brush/wash his hair, and he’s got one eye that goes off to the left (very disconcerting). When he was our neighbor he’d go out in his garden and pull weeds or kill ants or whatever and every single time his pants would drop and we’d all be blinded by his nasty ass crack. Anyway, he’s the main reason we moved (search for Cock-eyed Bill if you have no idea what’s going on). I thought for sure I was done with that fucker. I was wrong.
He rode past really, really slow until he saw me next to the fence. And then it was like someone pitched a rock at him. He was always a sneaky coward. Anyway, I laughed and yelled for TheMan. “Your best buddy’s out here and wants to know if you can come out and play!” TheMan acted shocked and appalled. I went back to my planting.
A little while later I’m up by the porch, again slightly hidden. This idiot comes circling around again. This time he stopped to look up our driveway. What the hell is this guy doing?
“What do you want, Bill?” I say to him. He hadn’t seen me so I scared the shit out of him. He hopped on his bike and was gone like a bat out of hell (is there such a thing?). Damn that guy annoys the shit out of me. He’s got all kinds of balls when his mama’s there backing him up, or when he thinks I can’t hear him, but he runs like a, well, rabbit when he’s confronted. Nice. So, I told TheMan to come out and told him the next time Cock-eyed Bill comes around he’s to tell him to keep on truckin’. Yeah, what was I thinking?
Then I see CE Bill driving by in his car. Holy shit! Hey, guy, nothin’ happening here. Just cleaning up our yard. Get the fuck on already! I’m pretty sure this nimrod is staking the place out so he can come help himself to some stuff. Just like he did at our other place. I mean, what other reason would he have to keep driving by? Does he have the hots for my husband, so he’s hoping to catch a glimpse of him outside? Does he have the hots for me, so he’s hoping I’ll catch him and beat him to a bloody pulp like he wants me to? I don’t know. It’s certainly not because we’re interesting. The gods know we’re pretty lame ’round here.
I think the next time I’m going to let Otis chase after him. No, the pup won’t bite, but he’s found his big dog bark and likes to use it. That would be fun.
Popularity: 3% [?]
Sphere: Related Content








8 Comments
Now how do you know that Bill didn’t eat your corn and peas? Maybe hubby should pee on him instead. FAIRNESS TO BUNNIES!!!
ha! loved the cock-eyed bill story!!
Yeah, I think the bunny was framed!!!!
No, no. Cock-eyed Bill likes to steal whole plants and then he puts them in his front yard and try to sell them for three months. He also somehow manages to stock up on pet carriers and bird cages for his all summer long “yard sale”. I’m pretty sure he gets those from poor souls who are too lazy to put their real yard sale stuff in at night.
And I didn’t kill the bunny. I let the dog chase him. I’m pretty sure the dog would’ve been scared shitless had he caught the rabbit, so it’s of no concern. As a matter of fact, the little devil has lots of other stuff to eat- my yard is full of clover and wild strawberries. And nice green grass. He can munch on that stuff all night long. But he ain’t gettin’ my garden again. Hmmph.
We knew you didn’t kill the bunny, we’re just funnin’ you. If it were me, OTOH, I’d protect the strawberries and let Bugs have the peas. Just me, though.
We knew you didn’t kill the bunny, we’re just funnin’ you.
I know that, silly. I am not so sensitive as to not have a sense of humor, dontcha know. See, if I was actually talking to you I’d make all kinds of messed up noises and faces and pretty soon you’d laugh at me and not even know why. For real, yo. Don’t worry about offending me too much.:) I can usually take it. Sucks that dry humor doesn’t really flow with the writing (which is often why I inject my comments with the ever annoying “mwahahaha”). Too bad.
As for the strawberries, well, Baby decided those were so good she couldn’t wait for them to ripen. She’s been eating them as soon as the flower turns into something that might eventually be a berry.:) And the little heathen doesn’t even get a belly ache. Ha! She gets that iron stomach and taste for anything that sits still from her Dad.
“Don’t worry about offending me too much”
Well, THAT sounds like a challenge…
Good luck, mister. I’ve got your number now. Mwahahaha!!!