Wildlife Wednesday – Peter Who?! – A guest post!

The rabbit is back visiting us on a regular basis – so far he has left the garden alone!  My oldest girl has some thoughts about the bunny’s background – it made me belly laugh!  

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         Hi I’m Peter. Not Peter Cottontail like most people would assume since I’m a bunny. No, I am not a hare, though I hear I look very, very much like a rascal that gave a nice family nightmares…No if I had a carrot for every time a little kid saw me and said…“What’s the bunny’s name?” and then the mother would always say…“That’s Peter Cotton tail honey,” I would be fat like my brother Peter. So please, do me a favour and don’t call me Peter Cottontail, call me by my real name. Peter Radish. That’s my real name.  Now if I had a carrot for every time a kid saw me and said…“What’s the bunny’s name mommy?” And the mother said…“That’s Peter Radish.”, well I’d be skinny like my aunt Peter.

But let me formally introduce myself, Peter Radish. I come from a long line of Peters. It all started with My great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather carried over twice and so on. Who was named… can you guess? Winford. He didn’t like his name.

Then when he found out his kid number three had two sets of quintuplets he got to work trying to first eat a carrot then think of a perfect name for all of them that would continue through all the generations for the rest of life itself. But due to an unfortunate accident involving a dinosaur he never got the chance so the parents named them all Peter. Not even knowing about the name Peter Cottontail at all!!! But one thing those quintuplets honoured from there grandfather was that all they’re kids would be named the same as them. So they did and then the ice age wiped them all out. But I guess miraculously a bunny managed to write a note to the next generations of bunny’s detailing the “Rule of Peter”. And that’s how it all began.

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It’s a family tradition to name all your kids Peter. And that can get confusing if you know how many kids a bunny might have. It’s especially confusing at family reunions. A normal conversation there might be…

“Peter! I need your help.”

“Why?”

“Ok”

“One sec”

“I can’t right now, I’m helping Peter.”

“Wait who said that? Peter?”

Or….

Everyone’s chatting among themselve’s when one bunny yell’s…

“I’m changing my name to Wolly!!!”

Silence. Everyone turns around and stares.

“Just kidding!” Everyone laughs and continues there conversations while munching their carrot or drinking their carrot punch.

And then my personnel favorite… gossip.

So Peter is telling Peter about life at his house far away in the town across the street.

“So my new job is crazy demanding. I mean, my new boss, Peter, is limiting everybody to five carrots while at work. Of course Peter and I just wouldn’t stand for that. So now we all eat five and a half carrots.”

“You think that’s bad?! Peter just caught the Peter pox. You know the illness that Peter had the other day. Ya, spread it to all the kids, even Peter.”

“Well that’s just horrible.” Interrupts Peter as she continues with her life… “My brother just got promoted to the P’s squad. You know the one that Peter just retired from last year. I can’t even believe the things he made Peter do. They had to cross the border to spy on the Hare’s. They even had to find Peter who was captured. They threatened to take all of his carrots if he didn’t tell them where the safe full of the organic carrots was.”

“Wow that’s horrible.”

“Absolutely horrid!”

“Secret service alright!”

“Ok, everyone knows Peter right?”

“Yes.”

“Yep”

“Know him like a brother!”

“Well he told me that Peter told him that at the carrot fest Peter called him from the garden club that Peter had heared in the bathroom Peter said that I have big ears!”

“The nerve!”

“I know, it’s not my fault! My dad Peter had big ears to.”

“All bunny’s have big ears.”

“Ya, well if you ask me, that guy has a bushy tail.”

Needless to say, it gets confusing, so I look for some peace and quiet from time to time. Gossip can be overwhelming.  I know this nice little place…the deer talk about it at the weekly woods meeting…they call it “The Garden”.  More about that another time, I need to live up to my name and find some radishes.  Yum!

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To be continued

Wildlife Wednesday – The Showdown at “The Garden”

In this Wildlife Wednesday post there will be three different perspectives.  A deer’s perspective as he runs away from my dog.  My dog’s perspective as he runs after the deer.  And my perspective as I watch it all happen.

#1 perspective (The deer)

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  All I wanted was to munch on some vegetables with my buddies.  It was a nice day and I didn’t feel like going back to the tree den until later.  My wife was all up in my face about making sure the kids were ready for life and all my kids did was whine.  So me and my buddies all decided to go to the hot spot everyone liked to call “The Garden.”  We ran as fast as we could to the hot spot after a hard day at work (eating and finding grass).  The longer I took the more upset my wife would be so I went pretty quick, so did all the other guys.  We got to “the Garden” and everyone was told to vote who they thought would have to check to see if the electric fence was on.  (I did it last time)  But when we got there apparently a dinner special was going on because some of those little annoying humans were looking and pointing at us and were throwing delicious apples to us.  All the guys and me ran towards all that we could get.  And then it happened.  We heard a door open, and then saw a little white dog.  All the guys ran.  I, however, didn’t.  It was my night!  I didn’t want it to be ruined!  A scary story my great aunt deer had once told me about “Gus the guard dog”  had become a famous story throughout the woods and I changed my mind and ran.  “Gus the guard dog” was the beast of the woods that everyone was terrified to run into.  I had heard at the monthly woods meating that Stormin Norman (Pheasant) had almost been captured.  He said that Gus breathed anger .  His ears were apparently a secret weapon that all humans falled for.  Cuteness was his best acting scheme.  Unfortunately I hadn’t ran fast enough and that beast was right at my tail.  I leapt into the kind shelter of the woods where I disappeared from his view.  My wife is going to be mad but luckily I managed to keep and apple in my mouth, I will give it to her   That will smooth things over for sure.

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#2 perspective  (The dog)

Instinct is everything.  Well at least to dogs.  All I know is that if there was an animal you could catch, go for it.  So that’s what I did.  There was an animal.  I am a dog.  My instinct kicked in and I ran.  My feet practically flew as I sprinted for the deer.  I am a small white dog.  And I am not ferocious but I am cute.  And that is a great weapon to have.  My ears and fur usually win me some kind of treat but I really don’t care one way or another, I eat almost everything.  Expect tomatoes.  Those little red balls are not natural looking.  And they are so sour.  So I don’t eat them, but that’s my life choice.  Around the subdivision I am notorious with the animals for being dashingly handsome and brave.  And ferocious.  In MY house I am known for being cute and cuddly and always being curled up on my couch.  I choose to keep my “woods life” and my “house life” separate.  My routine is sleep, eat, sleep, look for something to chew, sleep and then ask my friend Ally (not her real name) to let me outside to pee.  So one day I needed to pee so she let me out.  I saw deer.  So then I sprinted after them. Most of them sprinted and one started a little later than the others giving me a chance to catch him.  I ran as hard as my big “muscle covered” legs would take me.  I couldn’t catch him but I almost did!  That’s what matters.  (If anyone asks I did catch that deer.)

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#3 perspective (My perspective)

It was a nice day.  I looked out the window and saw some deer.  I love deer!  I ran and grabbed some apples.  The kind I did’t like, of course.  I am a very picky eater when it comes to apples.  No to green but yes to yellow.  Not the gross kind of red apples and not if they are too squishy. Best to toss them in the compost or, in this case, throw them to the deer.  We started to throw.  The deer went for them right away.  Our dog Gus, a cute little cuddly dog that everyone loves somehow go out and ran.  I started yelling, trying to stop him, but his instincts had already turned on and his ears had already turned off.  He ran.  But I knew he wouldn’t catch him, even if he did he wouldn’t know what to do with a deer except lick it.  So I watched him chase the deer.  He eventually came back and then I gave him a treat but not a Tomato because I know he doesn’t like them.

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~ Ally Griffin (not my real name)

Wildlife Wednesday, May 5th, a guest post

My eldset daughter decided she would start to follow the Wildlife Wednesday meme, here is her first encounter and entry!  Enjoy!

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This is a chickadee.  I decided to take a picture of him one because the golden finches were apparently busy and two “stormin Norman”  (our pheasant) might’ve been with his lady friend Norma. All the better for this little chickadee who was the star today.  I sat on the patio tiles waiting for some sort of wild life to come to me even though I knew that if I wanted to find stormin Norman than I would have to look but…I am too lazy.

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I just sat and waited until a little Chickadee (whose name I decided would be Moonlight because of all the beautiful dark colors) flew over.  I was delighted.  I snapped as many pictures as I could and then decided to try to hand feed the other Chikadees.  It didn’t work.  But one did come about two feet from me and then stared at me like I was ridiculous. I gave up.  At least I had figured out how to do it before so I wasn’t at much loss.  I threw the seeds aside and ran inside.  I sit here now wondering what happened to that one little Chicadee.  Maybe he joined the other birds.  Maybe he was staring at stormin Norman and Norma trotting around yards.  But what I’m guessing is that Norma doesn’t know stormin Norman is a player.  He can sometimes be seen with a smaller pheasant named Gladys. So maybe that one little chickadee is watching them and chirping hysterically knowing who stormin Norman really is on the inside…a scoundrel.

image So that’s why I have a picture of a little bird named Moonlight.

Ally Griffin (not my real name!)