Tuesday, February 26, 2008

A runaway bunny appeared in our yard the other morning. White and fluffy with lop ears, it obviously had owners, but as to who or where, I had no clue. To be honest, I wouldn't have minded it staying but it was nibbling my new spring growth in the garden. So I went out and introduced myself and it eventually allowed me near enough to stroke and then grab. After a very brief struggle, it stayed still in my arms and I brought it inside. The dog met us at the door with the happiest look on her face: all her dreams had just come true. "It's for me! It's for me!" she shouted for joy as she bounced up and down. It was soon apparent to her than the rabbit was actually for me, so she rushed outside happily to catch one of her own, giving me a chance to hustle the bunny upstairs into the bathroom to await an owner. I figured a little cottontail could do the least damage there as far as munching and pelleting. After a morning of asking around, someone finally turned up at the door to claim it. A mother and her two children whisked it away gratefully (the little boy kept saying, "Wasn't it nice of her to take care of him?" As if he'd expected me to be mean to a widdle wabbit) and another adventure ends well.

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