Now, this is a new experience for me. While we have deer (in abundance) and the occasional blue jay or woodpecker wander through, we generally don't have bunnies. But I live far enough out of the city in a rural enough setting that if someone decided to
Or cat. Or dog.
Note to anyone who has ever dropped off a pet near a farmhouse or on a quiet road: Your pet does NOT get adopted and live out its' remaining days in comfort. Nine times out of ten, it gets HIT BY A CAR. And that last remaining time? It STARVES, because it doesn't trust humans anymore - well, would you? - and won't eat any food it finds.
Ahem! /end rant
Anyhoo, the bunny. He's cute. All white and black, like a chocolate chip cookie, and a good size. He first appeared in my neighbors yard about two weeks ago (setting off a chain of phone calls where we had to figure out what to do with the poor thing. We found it a home with other bunnies but it won't be caught [see paragraph above] and now is apparently the neighborhood rabbit.) and has now migrated to mine. The kids looove having the bunn-ya appear in the yard and have left him carrots and treats, hoping to convince him that they're not bad guys and mayyybe, just maaayyybe, they'd like to give him a pat or two.
Mr. Rabbit? Is NOT HAVING IT. [See two paragraphs above]
Last night I was relaxing on the couch, finishing a book and dawdling in that happy hallowed time when the house is quiet and I don't have to go to bed yet. I was all ready for bed - still towel drying my hair! -
and there was a SHRIEK from upstairs.
Rosey was still up and reading (the minx!) in the last bit of sunshine coming through her window. She looked down into the golden glow of the side yard and noticed: a cat.
Not my cat. A strange cat. And it was stalking The Bun. Bunny was eating a dandelion, ignoring the treats and carrots and parsnips the kids had sprinkled around, ignoring the cat.
Visions of rabbit carcasses and the sad faces of my children ran through my head. I jumped for my shoes and flew out the door, waving my arms and hollering and generally making a huge racket.
The cat went streaking off one way, the bunny the other. I'm not really sure who I scared the most.
I am sure, however, that I scared everyone gathered in the full parking lot of the fire hall.