Well guys, I hunted and snared eastern cottontails for a good many years. I would often have 200 to 300 snares in the bush at a time. If able, I liked to check my snares every morning, crack of dawn.
There's alot of hard work put into snaring rabbits. Back home we got lots of snow so the snares frequently had to be raised. Many snares would get lost in heavy snow storms, that literally shut down a line. Sometimes we would have to wait until the snow melted (into spring) to go back and close em. Others would be hit or tipped and had to be reset or replaced.
I preferred to check mine everyday because of the crows, weasels and bobcats (now coyoyes are thriving in N.S.) Weasels would crawl up the azz of a snared rabbit and eat the belly out, touch nothing else. Other times they would only eat the head off them. Strange but they were notorious for doing this and any rabbit of mine that a weasel bit, became dog food.
I also liked checking my snares right after a cold, clear frosty night. Crisp nights always made the rabbits active and they would run the bunny trails on such nights. These nights would often yeild many a rabbit. Back then we didn't have quads and ski-doo's to run around on. We put our bunnies in old burlap tater bags and let me tell you there were mornings when we had to make 3 and 4 trips to get the catch out.
I loved hunting and snaring rabbits back in those days, it was a true passion of mine. Most of the local neighbours made their stews out of my bunnies. Rabbit eatin is very common in N.S. You could make a decent buck too if you trucked your catch into Halifax and set up in the tavern parking lots. Any of you guys remember Comeaus' Tavern right across from the Stacoma Navy Base on Gottingen Street? It later became the Northend Beverage Room, this was one of my favorite places to set up and sell my bunnies. Most of them navy boys leaving the tavern would buy anything and the tips weren't sleezy neither.:lol Can't say that for some of the gals they were totin on their arms! :lol :hat
Got to say though, often old Johnny Commeau the tavern owner got his share of our profits, we would made a pretty penny, but many times after all our rabbits were sold, somehow we'd manage to sneak our way into the tavern for a
quick one
and by the time we left there wasn't much to show for all our hard work....:\ Oh well.....
But man, it was a hellofa good time back in those days!:hat