We have the cute, furry, grey/brown bunny rabbit that has homes under our shed, our back deck, and our front deck. Last summer, he ate the tops off of my carrots and beets just as they were readying for harvest.
This spring, this little fellow began nibbling at the tender, green shoots sprouting in my husband’s nicely manicured flower beds. And out came the live trap! Mr. Bunny Rabbit was going to be relocated. Far, far away, a couple of concessions down the road.
But before Mr Cottontail was able to locate the smell of the tasty treats, Pepe ‘not’ Le Pew decided to investigate.
He was big! He was bold! He was beautiful!
Unlike Pepe Le Pew, this dude was not trying to catch Penelope Pussycat: attempting to sway her, with his heavy French accent “I am Pepe Le Pew, your love.” “You are my peanut, I am your brittle. ” Instead he was curiously studying his surroundings, and when we noticed that he was trying to dig his way through the fenced bottom of the cage; out came the burgundy blanket!
Darkness ensued. The door opened. There was a light at the end of the tunnel.
He didn’t dance and swoon as the original Pep would have, instead he waddled off as quickly as his short, little legs would take him, and into the forest he did head.
Groovy Tales of a Well Adult 