That Wascally Wabbit

When I moved into this house a decade ago and started planting bulbs, the catalogs I ordered from would add free bulbs to orders over a certain amount. My orders were always large enough to merit the freebies but the freebies were usually tulips that didn't fit my color scheme in the front beds so I just stuck them randomly in the beds in the backyard. The front of my house looked beautifully coordinated. The back looked, shall we say, eclectic. Thank goodness the incentives are now monetary, i.e. $25 off orders of $50 or more. I can get more of what I want instead of more of they want me to have.

Five years ago, when I was going through a particularly difficult period, my best friend gave me a butterfly bush. I was very touched by this because I knew that she was also going through a rough patch. Her breast cancer had recurred. What she didn't tell anyone, not even her husband, was that it was a virulent type that couldn't be treated. She passed away seven months later.

I planted the butterfly bush at the corner of my shed where I could see it from any window at the back of my house. The following spring I discovered I had somehow managed to plant the bush in the middle of a bunch of those random tulips without disturbing a single bulb. It looks quite striking. Bright red tulips around the base of the butterfly bush in the spring, then as they fade and die, the butterfly bush develops its foliage and then blooms attracting an amazing array of butterflies. It's a beautiful memorial to a beautiful woman.

A few weeks ago, I noticed a hole at the base of the butterfly bush. I immediately thought of my resident bunny. Why was he burrowing under the bush? Then I saw another hole. And another. He was digging up and eating the tulip bulbs. I have similar holes in every bed. He seems to only eat the tulips. As far as I can tell, he hasn't disturbed a single daffodil. Crazy Gramma is right. He is a wascally wabbit!