Bunny Mojitos

The mint grew wildly this summer. Because it only rained once in the Northeast, a downpour that lasted about two months, the voracious four-lined plant bug used the mint leaves as umbrellas rather than dinner. We have consistently been able to harvest two pounds of mint a week for the Lounge mojitos.

But why did nothing else in the garden seem to be growing? Besides the obvious lack of sunshine, Eesah the Lounge Dog discovered the culprit while we were picking mint one day and I heard him pick up a squeaky toy. At least I thought it was a squeaky toy, until I realized that baby bunnies squeal just like squeaky toys upon finding themselves in a dog's mouth. And there it was, in the thick of the mint bed: A rabbit nest.

Because it only takes a couple of weeks for rabbits to mature into hypersexualized teenagers, a Teen Mama Bunny was small enough to get through the garden fence. She had found the perfect place to raise a family, inside a protected area full of bunny food, safe from the dog (except when we picked mint) and other hungry four-footed creatures.

Eesah uncovered two more rabbit nests this summer, one under a bush and one in the lemon balm, which has resulted in an extensive graveyard at the edge of the yard; we've buried six babies to date. I didn't have the heart to disturb the rest of the babies and even went so far as to erect a fence around one nest to keep the dog out.

Destructive, yes, but baby bunnies are so damn cute and fuzzy, even in the garden.