Our big living room window looks out over the back yard. There is a 10-foot square area at the base of the window between the deck and the porch. In this secluded area is a bird feeder, a plot of petunias, one rose bush, one snowball bush, and some tiger lilies.

We could not understand why there were fewer and fewer petunia blossoms as the summer progressed but over the past few weeks the green parts have proliferated and the flowers have been reduced to stubs.

The culprit? One very hungry rabbit.

He, or she, has taken up residence in this square patch of ground.

I always believed that rabbits dug warrens deep in the ground; Peter Rabbit did it that way. This rabbit has scratched some of the much away and made a rabbit-shaped indentation on the ground in which he/she sleeps. It's like a four-star hotel with room service being an ever present supply of food carefully planted by my husband.

Tonight as I watched him/her nibbling away on a flower bud, a second rabbit joined in. About the same size, brown and perhaps of a different sex.

So let us now assume that we have a rabbit couple living outside the living room window. What good can come of this? None that I can see.

A dozen little fluff balls hopping around the backyard perhaps; thousands of little bunny parts and pieces scattered around the porch and grass after the inevitable battle with the neighbor's cat.

The good news might be that at some time in the future I could have 56 lucky rabbit feet to sell on eBay.

And that's what I think about it.