Last spring, for the first time, I took a shot at vegetable gardening. During my teenage years I had dreamt of me walking home with a wicker-basket in hand full of ripe tomatoes, potatoes, beans, peppers, eggplants and all the vegetables I could think of. So the motivation was there but not the space. My dream seemed attainable once I moved into my current house. This house has a large back yard, and on one corner of the yard sits a raised-bed vegetable garden. It

several weeks after preparing and sowing, my garden was coming along just fine. I was happy like a child with tons of toys. I watered my garden regularly and sprayed pesticide occasionally. Everything seemed fine and I was content with the way the plants looked.

One morning, while watering, I noticed a cucumber was severely bruised and scraped. I noticed a tiny piece of another one still hanging on a vine. Another half-eaten piece lay on the ground nearby. Also, carrots had no tops left as if they were guillotined overnight. I was disheartened. I had fenced the garden. I looked at the fence and it was still upright. That perplexed me even more. The destruction seemed recent. I scanned for anything hiding or lying low, but did not find it. I was puzzled.

At times like this, I could always ask my mother-in-law for help. She is an amiable person, a good Christian who loves assisting others. She is an expert in gardening and always considered herself one of the best gardener god ever decided to create. I recall her many times, after supper, sitting by the hearth, surrounded by her neighbors, discussing about her indigenous gardening skills, problems that arose during her tenure at the field, and the solutions she invented all on her own. Gardening is a topic she loved so much that she could have spent her whole life preaching it if she had never married. I was sure; therefore, she knew the cause of this mischief, too. So I called her up.

?Hello!? it was her on the other end.

?Hello! Dee!? we called her by her nickname,? I have a question to ask. Can you spare some time?? I said.

?Sure! What is it?? she assured me.

?This morning I found my garden in pretty bad shape. I am not sure what?s going on?? I told her.

?What did you find exactly?? she sounded inquisitive as always.

?Carrots have no tops left on them. Cucumbers are severely bruised. Many other plants are out of shape too, except the Corn,? I said in one breath.

There was silence on the other end. I could only hear her breath for a while.

?It could be any of the critters, but I am very sure it is rabbit,? she remarked almost after twenty seconds. I could see her meditating. I could imagine her with her eyes shut and hands by her crossed legs, in some Yoga position.

?What makes you say that?? I was anxious to know.

?Rabbits love carrots, my dear! Had it been a ground hog or a deer, your garden would have been wiped out clean overnight,? she explained. ?You need to hang some bags around the fence that contain dog-hair, cat-hair and, of course, human-hair. Make sure you hang those bags on their path- way.? I could sense a beam of satisfaction on her face.

Next day, I did exactly what she said, and tied those hair-bags on the fence around the garden at different spots. That evening, as I approached my garden something scurried past me. I instantly knew it was one of them little varmints; which also meant the hair-bags did not work.

Later that night, as I lay on bed musing, my father-in-law flashed in my mind. He knows something about everything. He is a bag of solutions; solutions that may not always work, but he never hesitated to deliver them. I called him up and put the situation forth.

?Have you tried a trap?? He inquired

?No I have not,? I replied.

As a result, he helped me fall asleep with his long, monotonous trap-stories of his youth - stories I had heard at least fifty times since I first met him.

There I was - a rookie trapper; something neither my father did, nor did my grand father. I purchased a trap and laid it in the garden with a fresh bait of Swiss-cheese. The following day, early in the morning, I went to check on the trap. I was delighted to see something was trapped. I did not want to hurry, for I wanted to savor that moment of success. I lazily walked towards the garden. The closer I got, the clearer it became, to my dismay, that it was not a rabbit but a rat. Frustrated over the situation, I let the rat go. I tried second time with a bait of cabbage and this time I did get a rabbit. It looked awfully small and scrawny. I could not imagine that little thing could devour so much of my garden. Anyway, as was recommended, I relocated it in remote, secluded area. I thought my problem was solved, but I was wrong.

Another evening as I was walking to my garden to check on corn, I saw something moving from a distance. I cautiously approached my garden and saw couple of rabbits busy munching on my carrots. I was mad. I ran to catch them. My foot got tangled on cucumber vine, and I landed on my face. Sensing peril nearby they ran for their lives; and, flew right through the fence as if there was not any. I lifted my mud-covered face like a serpent and noticed there were four of them; one was larger then the rest. ?She must be the mother,? I thought, and remained helpless on the ground, beaten by a bunch of rabbits.

That evening I sought solitude and went on a walk. On my way back, I came across Chuck, my neighbor. Seeing me agitated and stressed, he inquired how everything was with me. I told him the cause of my distress. He suggested, ?Get some vermin?s urine and sprinkle around your garden. I got rid of squirrels that way once.? I thanked him and went home.

At supper, that night, I told my wife what chuck suggested. She disapprovingly said, ?No way! I don?t like your idea. It is my garden too, and I am not going to allow you to sprinkle some stupid animal?s urine there. It is very selfish of you to even think of something so disgusting?,?she kept going on and on and on. I thought it was wiser to keep mum and walk away from her. That night I slept on a sofa, courtesy of my dear?s anger..

Next morning, she said, ?Honey! I am sorry for what I said last night?, but I remember, once, at our old place, you used Tabasco and black pepper to stop squirrels from digging in my flower-bed, did you not ??

I had forgotten about that. I thought of giving it a try. I brought about dozen bottles of Tabasco and emptied them in and around the garden. It did keep the rabbits away, but next day the rain washed it all off, and they were right back. Black pepper and Tabasco were good solution but until it rained, or I watered the garden. I could control watering but not the rain. Even worse, without water my garden felt like Sahara. Further, to keep up with the problem I had to replenish my supply of Tabasco constantly. That was a bit too expansive of a solution, and I had better find something cheaper, I determined. I was looking for a long-term solution to the problem.

Next day, I went to a nursery in town. After explaining my dilemma, I asked a gentleman there, if he knew any other ways to get rid of the rodents in my garden. He drummed his temple with two fingers for few minutes and then said, ?You need to have some scarecrows in your garden. Especially, you need to have those inflatable owls, and snakes, and eagles?. whatever can scare them away. And better yet, you can buy them right here.?
At the time I was willing to do anything, and each word he uttered made sense. I wondered how my in-laws did not suggest this particular solution before. I purchased as many of those inflatable items as I could.

After I was done putting up all those plastic predators, my garden no more looked like a garden but more like a zoo. I laid Rattlers on the ground, erected fake Foxes and Coyotes on each corner, and Owls and Bald Eagles on small poles. Those eagles fluttered in the slightest breeze. It was a sight to see, and great amusement to my neighborhood kids.

CNTD:

Amazingly, the little creatures disappeared after this. I did not see them around again. I finally sighed with relief that the problem was over. I spent next week and half in peace and I actually slept at night. I called my mother- in- law and shared the good news. She was happy for me. ?I am very proud of you,? she exclaimed.

By and by, two weeks passed. I was very happy to bring home cucumbers, tomatoes, peas, beans and peppers, all from my own garden, and not worry about those rascals. Life was normal again, in the house as well as in the garden.

One afternoon, I did not feel well and came home early from work. As I looked out the kitchen window, to my utmost disbelief and astonishment, I saw two little bunnies chewing on the inflatable snake in my garden, as if it was a little vine. On the other corner I was furious to notice two more rabbits riding the fox. The largest one was at the bottom of the pole on which the eagle fluttered ineffectively. I was dumbfounded. I pinched myself, it hurt; I banged my head on the wall and that hurt too. I knew I was not day-dreaming. I shot towards them. They cast a glance upon me but did not budge an inch - a sign of disobedience; but, they ran away, again, when I was about two-steps from the garden. I was so angry I could not think straight for a long time.

That evening, as disappointed and frustrated I was, I wanted to see if anyone had experienced similar rabbit nuisance, and had shared about it on the internet. I found many websites that talked about rodent problems, but they all wanted to sell their products, or advertise about someone else?s product.

?Perhaps I am not searching right,? I said to myself. I searched on Google with key words ?Rabbits? and ?Garden?. What I found astounded me. I found the most simple, yet totally overlooked solution at http://www.gardenweb.com. I learnt , in the forum of this site, the brownish little rabbits were called Cottontails, and, the effective way to stop them was to fence the garden, or yard, with meshed Chicken-wire that has one and half inch of grids, and bury the fence about three inches in the ground. That was it.

I immediately drove to Lowe?s and bought Chicken-wire with smaller grids. I tore the old fence down and put the new fence of chicken-wire up. But the very important thing I did differently than the first time was I buried half a foot of the fence in the ground. Before the fence was just sitting atop the garden, and was relatively easier for the rabbits to crawl underneath it. Besides, the older fence had larger holes.

Since the new fence went up, I have occasionally noticed some scratch, or scrape on the ground, right along the fence, as if something was trying to remove the dirt. I know now what it is. The knowledge makes me feel better. I learnt a great deal out of this wild experience.

Thank you all, those read my first such attempt

Great narration. I love the ease with which you write.

You must have realized by now that the reason why people are not commenting is because your name is buttman.
(Buttman is also the name of a very famous porno actor).

But Buttman is a very good writer.