Lagomorphs Lament

The Hunter Awakes!

When I wake in the morning and part the curtains in my bedroom, my eyes are assailed by the bright summer sun.  As I squint and adjust to the deluge of light, the back garden slowly comes into focus. As I scan my domain, I become aware of nature's bounty. Birds perch aloft in maple and sycomore. Bees go about their business, clumsily bouncing between the floral cacophony of delight. Summer is in full swing, and yet the balance of nature has silently shifted. For in plain sight, feeding with gusto, are the scattered forms of my bane. Rabbits, hordes of the voracious critters, sit, dig and munch on what was a healthy lawn. They dig beneath and eat those succulent roots, leaving a scar that no anodyne can repair. The centre piece in the front garden, lovingly tended by Mrs F, has become the Somme c1916. Bulbs have disappeared, and flowers consumed. Mounds of dirt remain rendered sterile by a thousand mastications. And let us not forget the proliferation of warrens.

 Nature In All Its Majesty

Through the eyes of the biologist, I can appreciate the beauty of nature, the rhythms, and the multitude of species coexisting in apparent harmony. But ultimately, I can also see nature in all its raw, cruel and apparent wasteful horror. There is nothing kind in nature. Existence is hard, and lives are curtailed well before their natural time. However, all ecosystems are subject to constraints and the supposed 'harmony' is but an illusion. All species are subject to pressures irrespective of their position in the so-called 'Food Chain'. But here lies a problem that is very much part of the New Zealand landscape. My adopted country is not one naturally teeming with top predators. Before the coming of man, the only mammalian presence was the bat, and the top predators were avian. The arrival of the Maori (c1400AD) resulted in the extinction of many indigenous species. European settlers in the 19th century introduced a variety of mammalian species, including the rat and the rabbit. Rabbits have a well-deserved reputation for rapid reproduction given favourable conditions. The main threat of predation comes from critters introduced by the Europeans, such as stoats and cats. There are also hawk species that will happily feed upon the cute bunnies.

The Solution

I have a powerful .22 air rifle in my possession. I have used it to cull rats that sometimes proliferate on the property. At 10 metres, it delivers a tight group; however, at 25 metres, the spread of pellets makes it unsuitable for an ethical kill at that distance and beyond. It is a relatively modern airrifle and sports a long suppressor on the barrel. The downside is that the barrel that actually fires the projectile is relatively short, which bodes ill for consistent accuracy at long range. Thus, I have just purchased a second rifle: Benjamin Trail NP XL, Nitro Piston Air Rifle in .25. This is a beast, combining raw power with repeatable accuracy at long distance. At .25 calibre, the projectile is heavier and larger than the standard .22-calibre projectile, which is chambered in the most popular type of rifle. It has a break system that takes an estimated 47lbs to cock. This energy is stored within a cylinder containing nitrogen gas. Most airrifles use a spring system to store the energy. The Benjamin Trail, although it propels a relatively large projectile, releases enough energy for the pellet to leave the barrel at blistering speed, maintaining a flat trajectory at distance. This rifle is about as powerful as it gets without owning a gun license, in New Zealand at least. Even so, I had to complete a form and take it to the local Police Station for identity verification, and no doubt, clandestine registration. Once countersigned by an officer, the form is to be emailed to the supplier of the 'Instrument of Doom', or 'Redemption', depending on perspective. I was assured by the police officer that the form would be expedited to the gun shop on the morrow. Only when said form reaches the supplier can my rifle be dispatched. Days later, I'm still awaiting confirmation of receipt from the dealer. Yesterday, with quiet despond, I emailed the company with a characteristically humour-laden message enquiring as to status. As yet, I haven't had a reply. For the enlightenment of my cherished readers, all four of you, I've appended the content of my email. Read and weep.   

Hi Mr Teapot Mugumbo,*

I suspect that the police folk who inhabit the Tipton Police Station have not emailed the requisite form required for the transport of the rifle that I have bought from your esteemed boutique. Strangely enough, the police lady (for it is she) who checked my credentials assured me most assuredly (unnecessary double positive), that the form that would release my property from your sticky fingers to my pristine and unnecessarily hygienic digits, would be sent by electronic means on the morrow. I can only tentatively surmise that great mendacities might be the culprit, or afoot; I am restrained in my conclusion on the premise that those who hold power over us mortal folk never lie. With that said, I am at a loss as to how to move forward to expedite my lawful access to the air rifle of my dreams (don't ask). O woe is me. Mayhap, a passing benign supernatural entity will perceive my dilemma and intervene from their lofty and implausable estimological perch, and take pity on someone so benighted. In the meantime, hordes of lagomorphs dine with impunity on my land, without recrimination or favour. Surely, the insouciant universe, vast as it may be, has more important matters not to contemplate. How am I to proceed? Am I just a pawn, poorly shaped, to be tossed on the storm waves of caprice and dejection? Is this my ultimate fate? How am I to proceed before the shreds of my tenuous, nay, nebulous sanity, become fragmented beyond the capacity of entropy's relentless march to redress? Teapot, I am in your hands. I seek help in a matter that drains my very soul. Is there a timely solution to my conundrum? Or is it my fate to stare from my domain, awaiting a parcel, unrequited, bereft and without hope. Teapot, you are my last resort. I await your return missive with unrestrained expectation.

Cheers,

Flaxen of the Saxon   

*  Name changed to protect the innocent

Commentary Akimbo  

When it comes to the flora and fauna that I coexist with, I live by a single dictum: 'Kill nothing unless I have a reason'. Like most rules that govern our existence, self-imposed or imposed by a 'Higher Authority', they are not always followed without exception- caprice and expediency are the final arbiters of life. My wife looks on incredulously as I spend 15 minutes scooping 10 spiders from our ceramic bath and placing them on the wall in the hall; I like spiders.