I’m feeling Elmer Fuddish. Rabbits are a plentiful aggravation this year. I’ve gasped and groaned so many times when checking for emerging flowers in perennial borders that my husband calls our landscape my “gardens of oh.”
In a moment of exasperated self-reflection, I must admit: This does not sound like someone who loves gardening. This is not how I want to sound.
Yelling at rabbits while chasing them out of flower beds is neither effective as a control nor as a way to make friends with neighbors.