End of the billy strut

I was on my way home after shooting some rabbits when, driving through the village and turning a corner, my headlights swept across the green. It was like a scene from Peter Rabbit. Scurrying scuts scattered in all directions, zigzagging in the road to evade my truck. They scrambled over stone walls into gardens and peered out from behind the front wheels of the parked cars. How could I not smile?

It was no surprise then when the couple from a nearby property sent me an SOS — or ‘save our sanity’ as they described it. They had just visited the local garden centre and, after planting a trolley full of flowers, it only took a few hours of darkness