No doubt the imminent arrival of our second son, hopefully over the next few days, has softened my outlook on this species. Yes they’re non-native, indeed a highly invasive species and as such extremely problematic to our ecosystem, but for the past couple of weeks this little rabbit and its siblings have been a great source of amusement.

Each morning they’re up bright and early, well, before us anyway, and mostly engaged in one of a number of different variations on the general theme of dashing from one part of the front garden to another, whilst showing a naive disregard for any kind of safety protocol.

Earlier in the week Joe and I managed to creep to within three feet of one of them as it blissfully nibbled the lawn. Bearing in mind the average silent sneaking skills of a toddler, you’ll see why I question these young rabbits absolute dedication to their own health and safety.

The fact that there were six playmates a fortnight ago and only three now, would appear to bear out my concerns.

European Rabbit (Oryctolagus cuniculus) by blackartz

I’ve just been contacted by the non-profit group Strangford Lough and Lecale Partnership to ask if they can feature one of my pictures on some of their promotional material.

Taken on a trip to the Farne Islands off the Northumbrian coast last Summer. I particularly like this one because it reminds me of those clichéd balanced pebble pictures, beloved of health spas and self help books.

Ever since I can remember I’ve wanted a Longworth Trap. This fantastic combination of shiny aluminium and post war British engineering allows the safe live capture of small mammals. Its a very elegant design featuring a kind of hallway and nestbox arrangement with a pressure sensitive bar that triggers a trapdoor once a creature is far enough inside. I’ve experimented with various baits over the years but a smear of peanut butter (crunchy – obviously) on the inside has proven the most irresistible.

Each winter,we share our old house with a few mice. They aren’t House mice (Mus musculus) but a mixture of Wood mice (Apodemus sylvaticus) and this species, Yellow-necked mice, who presumably decide that they’ll have a seasonally easier time of it by visiting us. This seems like the obvious reason but in a recent study, the Mammal Society concluded that although Yellow-necked mice are not fond of wet conditions, they’re not overly worried by the cold and that this house sharing behaviour may simply be down to the fact that population pressure means that young mice set off to find new territory at the end of the summer and they’re just exploring new habitat possibilities.

This winter, there have been fewer rodent visitors than in previous years. To make sure no trapped animals perish I monitor the trap frequently when deployed, and only ever put the trap down where there’s clear mousey evidence like nibbled packets in the larder, nocturnal scampering noises or, as has happened twice recently, when the bewhiskered guest boldly dashes across the carpet. In previous years I’ve relocated a mixture of species and up to ten or so individuals, but winter2010/11 yielded only four captures and of these only a single Wood mouse.

The mouse in this case was of a particularly large Yellow-necked variety. My son Joe, picked the trap up from the living room floor the other morning and as soon as he’d handed it over I could tell it was occupied as it was pretty weighty. Sure enough the Longworth’s resident was soon scrabbling around inside so we quickly rushed to put on wellies and coats so that we could set it free in the garden. We chose a highly salubrious location on top of our compost bins as a release site and I dismantled the trap inside a large plastic bag so that we could see and record whoever popped out.

This mouse was pretty unperturbed by recent events and sat on the top of the trap getting his bearings for a moment before trying a couple of experimental jumps, much to my son’s obvious delight. I then gently tipped the mouse out onto the compost bin beside Joe and with one mammoth leap of at least four feet, it had vanished into the catkin covered hazel hedge.

Incidentally, it stuck me as quite lyrical that I was taking pictures of a mouse with a Blackberry 🙂