That Jerk in the Cage that Poops Gold

Enjoy this blog entry I wrote in 2009.

I’ve been making great strides to live a greener lifestyle over the last few years – recycling more, using more efficient energy settings, supporting companies and politicians who support clean renewable energy and opposing those who support the short-sighted “drill, baby, drill” bull. Heck, I even traded a convertible Mustang for a Toyota Prius and if that’s not the definition of sacrifice, I don’t know what is.

I have even been trying to live healthier by growing my own vegetables and fruit – which will also come in handy for the inevitable zombie apocalypse – but, given that Texas in the summer lately has been akin to an infertile desert in which anything that does manage to make its way out of the cursed earth ends up destroyed by the sun, this is a challenge.

But we’ve found a way – much by accident.

I have a rabbit. We named him Mufasa because he’s a Lion’s Head rabbit, but lately I’ve been calling him, That Jerk in the Cage because he likes to attack fingers – yes, attack. That Jerk in the Cage gets to run around the house and have fun, but at night we cage the little beast so that he can pee and poop his little fuzzy heart out as that seems to be the only thing the little fuzzbucket is good at… that and chewing up wires and fish bubblers.

As That Jerk in the Cage produces a lot of pee and poop, we have to clean him up quite regularly and, since we have a compost pile in the backyard, I starting throwing his shavings in there, more out of laziness than out of any real thinking.

This is when the amazing thing happened.

A jack-o-lantern I threw out into that compost pile after Halloween had long-since rotted away, leaving behind some seeds which suddenly and without warning took root and created a massive pumpkin vine that, over time, produced three gargantuan pumpkins. Flowers from plants that had died reappeared and grew like weeds – the compost pile exploded with life.

As I’ve said over and over again: I’m no great thinker nor scientific genius and had no idea that rabbit leavings were such amazing fertilizer. Upon closer inspection the following fall when all of the new plants had died, I made the astonishing discovery that not a single plant had rooted into the ground – they had wormed and snaked their way through the compost and pine shaving. My rabbit had produced a growing medium better than that nature had.

This was a year ago. Now that the period that is laughably called a Texas winter is over with, I have filled all of our pots up with a mixture of Texas dirt and pine shavings pooped and peed on by That Jerk in the Cage. If all goes well, all of my crop from flowers to veggies and fruits will be growing thanks to that nasty rodent I’ve been glaring at for the past year.

I may have to change its name to That Jerk in the Cage Who Poops Gold.