Big City, Little Homestead

Living rural in the city is great – you can do it, too.

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Hervé the white rabbit

In November, 2013, I posted the following:

Ringo’s Lost poster

I  want to show you the new rabbit that entered my life. Like all my pets, he came to me through the rescue route. It was a few weeks after I lost Ringo (I will always be upset, I’m sure he was kidnapped or worse, and I put a lot of effort into finding him). Early one morning, a couple found a white rabbit in the middle of St. Antoine Street, just a few blocks away from me, near Georges-Vanier metro. They contacted Secours Lapins Quebec, who isn’t a shelter and can only network for rabbit rehoming. They gave them my poster to see if it was Ringo, but it wasn’t. The couple asked me to take him in anyway.

He is young, friendly, full of energy and curiosity, and he’s got a big appetite! It took a few weeks, but his name arrived: Hervé. Here he is on his Gotcha day!

One great thing about Hervé is that he actually likes being in the front yard, and his willingness to stay influences Kaori and Elizabeth, the girl bunnies, in a positive way. I’ve a lot fewer “escapes” – visiting the neighbours, or hiding under the car — than before. They then get to stay outside for longer.

He’s really fearless, actually. On Hallowe’en, he wanted out in the evening — no way! — and so was hanging around the front door. Kids came by to trick-or-treat, and he was trying to get into the bowl of candy. He taught Elizabeth to go explore the bedrooms upstairs. Naturally, he attacked a few houseplants this way, and cut down a stem of the ficus tree into a stump. I don’t know if it’ll recover (it took awhile, but it did).

He also humps my girls. They take it (most of the time) in the most unperturbed way possible. Girls can be worse for humping, as it’s a dominance activity. They’re all really happy together.

Kaori, Elizabeth, and Hervé

Update, December 2023

It is with sadness but satisfaction for me to report that Hervé has taken his final journey to the Rainbow Bridge. He was with me these past 11 years through a lot of adventures (trips taken!) and changes (a roster of bunnies, past and present). He was an unflappable bunny. While he sometimes seemed indifferent to me, he really wasn’t. He was a great companion to the other rabbits, and after his first energetic year of getting into everything, he was never any real trouble.

I got Parker in 2015 and he’s such a docile little boy, but Hervé had to assert his authority. As soon as their hierarchy was established, they became best buds – with the occasional flex, from time to time. For example, in 2019 I ended up taking Parker to Boston with me while Hervé The Bossman stayed behind. The end of that summer separation was actually a joyful reunion; Hervé being by himself for a full five weeks tempered his attitude. (It wasn’t like he was really attacking Parker, either – just being Hey You, I’m The Boss Of You all the time.)

After Willa came in, she integrated herself with Hervé and Parker, and it was such a lovely arrangement, until Parker went into hospital. As soon as that happened, Willa broke her bond with Parker, and became a total beeeyotch to him (way beyond I’m the Boss, more like I Hate You). Willa looooooved her husbunn Hervé, but Hervé was still friends with Parker, so she sensibly respected the afternoons that Hervé spent with Parker on the main floor. Downstairs was their territory, so she’d defend it against Parker. Not just against Parker either! If anyone gave Hervé attention whilst on the floor downstairs, Willa would rush and box them: “Don’t touch him, he’s MINE!”

Of course, this didn’t put any damper on me petting Hervé, because Hervé loooooved to be pet. Here’s part of the “bunny sitting” instructions:

Hervé’s decline

But age comes for us all, and in the case of rabbits, Hervé got dental spurs. He ended up on long-term antibiotics and, this year, a recurring under-eye abscess. He also got head tilt, and that eventually became exacerbated from an internal dental abscess. This meant, in his last few months, he could only perambulate in circles. It took me a little while to figure out that when he was most anxiously circling, it was because he needed to use the litter box.

As can be expected, Hervé became incontinent with old age, so I’d have to give him butt baths. At the very end, these past few weeks, taking him off antibiotics increased his quality of life, because it restored his gut flora – which meant his cecotropes arrived on a schedule he could handle, and he essentially stopped needing to get out of his own way (therefore, fewer butt baths required). He needed more physical support to be comfortable, buttressing him with blankets and companionship. Increasingly, he slept the day and night away. I’m sure the abscess did his brain and neurology no favours. He was very patient with (yet still protested!) my draining and cleaning his under-eye abscess with a syringe and catheter of saline solution, twice a day.

He’d had a good appetite and sweet disposition all throughout his decline, but the helplessness was real, and I didn’t want his end-of-life to become harrowing. I took him to bed with me for the last week to give him the body heat and support he needed, and for the first time in his life, he groomed me.

A morning in bed, before getting him up for the day

And so on December 1, I took him and Parker up to our long-standing vet in Laval, Dr. Woodlock. I wish I’d let play the music box they’d had playing in the room, but the tinkly lullaby started me crying (toughen up, Jane, it’s not about you). In the dim quiet of the room, sitting cross-legged on the floor with the bunnies in my lap, we bid a peaceful goodbye. First we gave him a sedative to send him off to dreamland, and ten minutes later, the euthanasia drug. Parker groomed both of us.

Then we put Hervé’s body in a burial bag to bring home. It was a long metro ride home, and then downstairs, I opened the body bag in Willa’s presence. I left them like that for a few hours, so that she would get used to the idea that Hervé was gone. And then, come dusk, I buried him in the back yard.

Hervé was a happy rabbit, and he made many other people happy too. Let’s remember him like this:

And remember, as well:

The Big Backyard BioBlitz is On! August 3–7, 2023

This year I decided to take the Nature Conservancy of Canada’s challenge and do a biological census of my front and back yards. It’s an event where you use the iNaturalist app to record as many species as you can find-and-identify in your own back (front) yard. Sign up and get your instructions here.

If you happen to be in my area (Little Burgundy, le Sud-Ouest, Montreal), then you are welcome to come by and discover even more, because I’m expecting to have no shortage of plants and insects to identify. Seek, an ID app by iNaturalist, will be useful for this, and I have some ID books on hand as well. Just send me a message or knock on my door, if you know where I am/can find me (I’ll be writing #NCCBioblitz on the sidewalk outside, and using the hashtag and location on my Instagram posts. I may even be outside doing it.

Spiders definitely allowed

Sorry (not sorry) if you might be a tad arachnophobic, but here’s the thing: I was terrified of spiders as a kid all the way through to some point of being a grown-up. It was after being a grown-up. When I was 23 or 24, I made a boyfriend check and check again regarding the presence he’d reported of a giant wolf spider in the bathroom. “It was THIS BIG!”… and thankfully it got out of there before harm came to it. Whatever you feel as an arachnophobe, I have felt it too.

And what fixed that? Looking at spiders and learning about them, and having so very few actual bad experiences and spider bites. It’s like every bite when I was a child could have come from a black fly or mosquito (horse flies: the worst!), but just like I was the family scapegoat, I devolved scapegoating onto whatever spider was at hand. Poor things.

The start of this arc of moral development was house-painting as a teenager, when I painted the leg of a daddy long-legs (they escaped my hideous fear), and watched it carefully clean its leg off. That’s when I realized they have worries of their own. It was the dawn of my waking up.

So now, when I’m on the boat, I have a rule: leave the spiders alone or put them out on the dock. If you encounter one while on the water, then trap it for the trip, and release it at the end.

And in my house, I have a rule: All rooms can have a resident spider, but one per room. Except that I hardly enforce it. I’m really lazy about enforcing it for daddy long-legs, and just keep an eye out for the other, speedier kinds (the pale yellow house spider, unidentified, others). And yes, I have to dust for cobwebs a few times a year.

I always put these guys outdoors simply because I think they’ll have an easier time hunting:

I tend to leave the screen off my kitchen and bathroom windows, so occasionally, I get a resident window-sill spider. These are speedy little predators who are very shy around people. Mostly. They tend to be more outgoing at night.

If the spider count in a location is too much, I move the spider elsewhere. Usually outdoors if the weather is ok, but in winter, I move them to the garage or the cold cellar.

Windowsill Sentinel spiders

Back in 2012 I started this blog post about my Kitchen Spider who, of course, I named Charlotte. Here she is, in the kind of photograph I had of that time:

Charlotte’s web had a collection of prey (visible), but also its previous moult exoskeleton (out of frame). I was really quite surprised how small she was when she started out — she was a very tiny spider. She found a good home there.

You’ll see that there’s greater clarity in a circle around the spider. This is the funnel of the web. Charlotte was a very subdued presence on the window sill, hanging out at the mouth of her cave but retreating whenever I startled her. When she was bold enough to come out of her cave, her leg span greater than a 25¢ piece. 

Soon, after more than a week without prey, her web wound around the frame of the window and various objects, and she even got off the window sill and wrapped a new web around the — I kid you not — handle of the kitchen faucet. I’m telling you this because many years hence, another kitchen spider did the same thing!

The first morning I just removed the web, but on the second morning, I felt a little sorry for her because the energy expenditure to do that work must mean she was hungry. I left the web intact, and just handled the faucet when I needed to use it. But eventually, the web tore off. So she moved her web over to the left corner of the window, which was a better spot for her.  

Here’s a gallery of the Kitchen Sentinel spider:

And upstairs, this year, I had a gregarious spider who even allowed a friend of the same type to hang out for a couple of days (I had to rescue it out of the bath and put it out the window, though). We’ll begin and end this gallery with the fabulous expanse of its web.

This kind of spider is called a Barn funnel spider in North America and a Domestic house spider in Europe; they look much scarier than they actually are – they are shy, opt to flee, and if they bite, they don’t even break the skin. So I still get the squeamish “don’t touch me!” feeling when I get close to one, but knowing these things about them I try to leave them in peace and not disturb them. For example, in the garden, I have to watch the plants for the funnel webs they create between plant leaves and other objects.

This lucky spider, here, is one that set up shop on my potting table. It even managed to drown itself in the sink during a rain. I removed it, placed its body back in the funnel web, and two days later, it was back as if nothing ever happened.

The orb-weaver spider

These guys are my second-favourite. In September until the frost comes, I won’t cross any area they’ve cordoned off with one of their webs. Including the patio door, which means I have to go downstairs to go out the back door.

The orb-weaver typically weaves a web between plants in meadows. Because it’s so energetically costly to weave a web, I’ve noticed that if one gets torn down by Big Clumsy (me, another animal, a bird), the spider will rebuild it with a zig-zag pattern. They will also consume their web and built it anew overnight, if it’s not fresh enough. I read once on the BBC website about bird-safe glass inspired by orb-weaver webs: apparently the silk contains proteins that show up in UV light so that birds don’t fly through in pursuit of insects.

And I even found a gravid spider hiding in the curl of a sunflower plant, in the autumn:

My favourite: jumping spiders!

On Jim McCormack’s  birding blog, the post “Jumping spider!” jumped right out at me. (He always matches the enthusiasm nature calls for.) “Cute” is definitely the word I apply to jumping spiders. They’re tiny, and curious, and I just like them. Here’s a great macro picture of a little guy in side-eye “you lookin at me?” mode.

From https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zebra_spider

Check out this super-cute (even if old) video of a curious jumping spider!

These spiders are everywhere, perfectly harmless, and at times perfectly helpless. I accidentally killed one while cleaning the bay window shelf, and I felt so, so bad. Now I will always be more attentive than I was that day, as that’s one place they could make a permanent home. Provided they’re safe from Big Clumsy.

A fence of welded wire and cedar posts

This story was originally posted on May 9, 2013. There’s an update down below

At long last, I finally have a new front fence. I could go digging through my photographs to show you its somewhat ugly predecessor — which I built with limited resources in 2010, just to try to keep my rabbits hemmed in—but no, we don’t need ugly temporary hacks here. It never really worked to corral the rabbits anyway.

The kind of fence I wanted was page wire, a wide-grid braided (wrapped, not welded, at the cross-points) wire fence that you find in farm country, with or without barbed wire to keep people out or critters in (some cattle will knock it down if they really want to, but it isn’t a safe fence for horses). However, when I easily found welded-wire fence at the hardware store, I bought it just to commit to the project. I posted it would look something like this when done, except with nice round cedar fence posts from the country, not square city posts.

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