Rascally Rabbits

It was crunch time. One weekend left of rabbit season, and three rabbits needed for our Woods to Food project. We went to the family farm, even though my Dad said he hasn’t seen many rabbits. At least it is a large area that hasn’t been hunted out – by people anyway.

Ann and I set out just after lunch. The temperature was 25 degrees, and the wind was gusting at 26 mph. It was cold enough that we let Henry and Oliver sit this one out to stay inside and play with my Mom’s new house cat.

The first order of business was placing the traps. I wanted to keep them in use as many minutes as possible. I put the three around some thorn bushes near a pond, then we set out on foot. We walked to the creek, and then walked the creek to the county road.

At this point Dad met up with us. He had with him two dogs – his hound and Yippy, a stray dog that Dad took in which appears to be half border collie and half something much larger than a border collie. I had suggested using the hound – Dad wasn’t optimistic. Dad had attempted to coon hunt with him (it is a Walker) earlier in the year, but the dog showed no interest and went home. Dad said he doesn’t seem interested in much besides killing cats, and their once abundant barn cat population has gotten suspiciously sparse.

We walked on, and soon we (Dad and I, not the dogs) jumped up a rabbit. After we (again, Dad, Ann and I, not the dogs) chased it about from bush to bush, it finally stopped where I could see it. I was carrying a shotgun to increase my odds on a running rabbit, but I now regretted it, as I had what would be an easy shot with a .22. I aimed very high, hoping the bottom edge of my shotgun pattern would just catch the rabbit in the head and I wouldn’t waste any meat. I over did it, though, shot too high and missed entirely. But after another little chase I had a chance again. This time I aimed a little lower and got it. One down, two to go.

Apparently after the first shot, Yippy just went back to Dad’s Mule (Kawasaki utility vehicle) to wait, and the hound went all the way back home. We were on our own. Dad went home, too, but advised us that cover would be better on the other side of the creek. So we crossed a low-water bridge, and headed back in the direction that we came from. When we arrived back near where the truck was (and there is no bridge), there was too much water in the creek to cross on foot, so we kept hunting the creek bank all the way around the field to our friend’s house, Llans and Danica Taylor. Llans gave us a ride home, and mentioned that he often see’s rabbits in his driveway. He hasn’t had cattle in the area around his house in a year or so, and there’s quite a bit of cover there.

We checked the traps at about dark, and nothing was sprung, so we shifted them to a different location for the night.

The next morning I got out at daylight. It was only 10 degrees, but it was still, so it didn’t feel as cold as the day before. I walked out several fence rows, and the edge areas where fields meet woods, but I didn’t turn up anything.

I was about to call it day, but Ann encouraged me to give Llans and Danica’s place a try. We went over there together, and walked about forty yards before we got up our first rabbit. Again, it took a little chasing around, but after a bit Ann got it on the run with her Browning 20 gauge. This was only the second time Ann has ever shot something, and she was pretty excited about it. After a short walk further, we got up a second one. This time I had my .22, and I was able to get it.

Success! We met our quota of four rabbits. I think we could have gotten a few more at the Taylor’s, but we had a lot of other things to do that day, and needed to be on our way.

I can hardly wait to experience the end result of this hunt. Rabbit dinner, here I come.