Duckies and Bunnies

It's that weird time of year in my neighborhood: Spring.

First let me describe the neighborhood to you. It's one exact square mile, within which can be found: one 7 Eleven, one veterinary hospital, two churches and another being built, one apartment complex, 1,200 single-family dwellings, two housing association amenities areas, and a golf course.

My house is in the middle of the golf course, as in, the 18 holes circle my block but in no way does my home abut the green at any point.

The golf course brings an interesting element to the area. We have ponds. Lots and lots of ponds. Oh, I know they're water hazards and only there to fuck with the golfer's games (and store the water for irrigation), but they look like ponds to me.

They also look like ponds to the local wildlife. Which is what makes this time of year weird.

For the next several weeks I will have to routinely slam on my breaks so as not to kill one of the plentiful mallards who are currently searching for a nesting spot, and later on will be taking their new families back to the pond. It's a regular Make Way for Ducklings around here, without Officer Mike.

Last week when I came home there were two ducks just hanging out in my neighbor's driveway. They watched me drive by. I swear I heard one quack to the other, "You think she'd wash that UrbanTruckster she drives more that once a season, wouldn't you?"

And then there's the bunnies. Today, the Jesus of Cheese was about to start cleaning out his tomato patch, and discovered a baby bunny. We held it, we petted it, we took pictures of it, we tried to feed it a carrot, and then we let it go. And where did it go? Right back to the tomato patch, with it's three brothers and sisters. At first we thought it was only one sibling, and then Simian Boy accidentally discovered the next sibling by stepping on it.

We're not sure how bunny #3--apparently it's now named Rachel--is doing. I think she's got a broken foot. Or a broken something. She's moving around and stuff, but not how she should.

There's a fourth one also, who's very good at hiding under the leaves or right beside a brother or sister.

After discovering the cute and fuzzy creatures of the forest living happily (okay Rachel's not that happy but the other three seem pretty content) two feet from our garage door, we decided to put the tomato bed cleaning on hold.

Maybe we should put up a bunny house or something. But if we did that, with our luck, a skunk would move into it. And the kids would be all happy about their new black and white kitty, and name it Flower.

I think we're gonna need the tomatoes.