A Country Side Note: Bunnies and Banded Garden Spiders

Our first week in the country hasn't been spent indoors painting and painting some more. We've taken breaks to play with the dog and take drives along the concessions and parkway - gawking at vineyards and mansions.

In fact one of what will be my most memorable moments about moving in will have to be Tim's first countrification (I made up that word!) moment.

I'm from Northern Ontario - a city in Northern Ontario, mind you - but Northern Ontario nonetheless. I grew up spending the summers at my grandparent's camp ('cottage' for all you Southerners), playing with garter snakes and grass snakes that my brothers caught. Tim equates my childhood to being raised by wolves and as such believes that I am already countrified. And by contrast this is true, Tim is very very much a Southern Ontario city boy. This was confirmed this week when we had an issue with bunnies.

I'll start this off with the most disgusting part. Ulli loves bunny poop. Apparently it is an unbelievable succulent delicacy. To her it's like truffles and she even snorts around looking for them like a truffle-seeking pig. This past week she hit the mother-load of bunny-truffle-poop. We had been so proud of her because she seemed so interested in the outdoor dog kennel that came with the house. Retrospectively, she was interested in the kennel because it was housing bunnies and more importantly was a bunny poop snack bar.

While we were puttering around in the yard - praising Ulli's interest in her kennel - we heard a high pitched squeaking sound, which was followed by a great bit of excitement on Ulli's part. Her nubbin (our name for what's left of her tail) was just a-wagglin' and her snout was upon the source of the squeaking. She was totally thinking that a real live squeak toy, was like the coolest! Tim quickly ran into the kennel to see what was going on, he pulled Ulli back and lo and behold there were two itsy-bitsy bunnies squeaking before him. Both bunnies made a dash for it - one through the fence and into the vineyard - the other straight into the lily leaves in the middle of the yard.  This caused Tim to go into hysterics:

T- What do we do, what do we do, what do we do?!?!?!?

C - I don't know.

T - Well, we can't just let them go off, they'll get eaten by coyotes.

C - What do you want me to do?

T - Get the one in the vineyard. I'll get the other one.

C - Okay.

C -Now what?

T - Get the cat carrier, we'll put them in there. 

C - What?

T - The cat carrier, and then we'll bring them to the humane society.

C - What?

The bunnies spent a warm night in The Witten's carrier in the garage, while Tim came to terms with the fact that going into the city to bring them to the humane society was not a solution as they'd just as likely be euthanized there. Most likely they'd also laugh at us for bringing them in. I certainly got a great chuckle out of it. Tim even appealed to my desire to have livestock, which was a good try on his part. Except when I explained that he'd have to help me when it came time for killing them, he back pedaled quickly. So in the end, Tim trudged off into the vineyard to release the bunnies and I swear there were some watery eyes. But he did it. The bunnies are quite likely in a coyote's belly now. But Tim's just a little bit more country for it.

Ulli still goes into the kennel to see if the squeak toys are still there or  alternatively have left her some new truffles. The bunnies den was actually tucked right up beside the igloo. Some bunnies just love to live dangerously I guess.

The day after that was my turn. For all my being raised by wolves and such, things still surprisingly creep me out. But I think everyone would be creeped out by this on your door screen:

I'm usually okay with spiders. They are good for the garden and catch flies and all that, but this was different. Tim, on the other hand, hates spiders, which is something that I usually bug him about. But, this was the mother of all spiders. It was the most gigantic spider I'd ever seen, it was a good inch in the body and 3-4 inches with its legs. Uggh, it was gross, and the evil yellow and black on its body looked like a creepy little face. Our field guide said it was a harmless Banded Garden Spider, but I was not buying it. 

For the rest of the morning, I would fling open the door to let the dog outside praying that it didn't fall off the screen or - God forbid - jump on me! Eeek! By mid-morning, I'd had enough and insisted that Tim get rid of it. He owed me for all the spiders I'd gotten rid of for him. He very bravely got a shovel and attempted to move it elsewhere. It promptly fell through the cracks on the back stairs and now we get to live with the thought that that mother of a spider is living beneath the stairs! I've definitely been putting shoes on to go in the backyard ever since.