So Much For My Act of Kindness

It’s a well-known fact of life that sometimes a person’s best intentions go up in smoke and lead to the worst circumstances.

This has happened to me a time or two in my long life and now it has happened again.

My family and I no longer had any use for a very nice workbench a carpenter had built for our shed. The shed had been repurposed and now there isn’t much work goes on in there, hence the surplus workbench.

So, we moved it against one wall of the back of our house, right under the kitchen window, and it has seen a lot more use there than it ever did or ever would have when it was in the shed.

As I had befriended the wild rabbits in our backyard and as winter was coming on, I worried over how they would survive. So, I (cleverly) filled in the bottom third of the workbench with boards after raking a pile of leaves underneath it to make it more attractive for the bunnies. Lots of soft bedding for them, I calculated. I left a rabbit-sized opening at each end so they could make a hasty retreat if a predator joined them under the bench.

It didn’t take long for My Bunny (practically a pet now) to discover her new digs and to wander in there for a look. I happened to be standing next to one of the openings when she came bouncing out one day, hopping right across my feet.

“What a great guy I am,” I remarked to myself, as I reached to pat myself on the back.

But the bunnies gave a terrible review of their new winter home and abandoned it right away. I am not sure what I did wrong but there must have been a design flaw somewhere.

So tonight came the good intentions gone bad.

We have had a skunk lurking around our yard very late at night and early morning for the past month or so. It feasts on the birdseed I spread on the ground.

I am not a big fan of skunks and I wondered where the smelly creature was hanging out when not dining under the bird feeders.

Tonight I got my answer.

Standing outside well after dark, I saw a telltale fluffy black and white tail disappear under our workbench. It then turned around and stuck its nose out the doorway, fleeing back inside once it saw me standing there.

This annoying wild animal has taken up residence in the wonderful hutch I made for the bunnies that seem to prefer to freeze half to death in a bush in winter than take advantage of my generosity and workmanship.

Later today, I’ll be busy evicting our newest tenant and boarding up its apartment.

If it gets upset and take revenge on me, I’ll be eating my meals in the shed for a while. At least there is no workbench in there now to stumble over.

©2023 Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.