The hydrangeas out back are in bloom. They haven't reached their full flush yet, but are coming along nicely. Hannah the Cat likes to sleep under them and then come in with her belly all dusty. If you walk too close to her when she's hiding there, her paw will shoot out and pat you on the ankle, or whatever she can swipe.
Hugo the Bunny used to have a warren under the big bank of hydrangeas against the house wall. That was when he still had the run of the backyard last year. It was cool and a little wet where the water faucet dripped, and it would keep him from withering in the summer heat.
You can see the ineffectual bunny blockade we set up last spring with flowerpots, to keep Hugo from squeezing under the gate like Peter Rabbit. But he just dug a big tunnel anyway, à la The Great Escape, and has been confined to quarters ever since. (Although he gets to come in the house quite a bit, too, and visit. But I don't make him chamomile tea.)
Quarters aren't so bad, but if we don't feed him exactly on time in the morning, he gets mad and flips his bowl over and knocks his little ramp down.
I didn't know bunnies threw tantrums.
In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him.