Now that was interesting, BUT so was the next happening! A little bunny must have had his home taken over by the snake! Out he jumped to get away. I stood within a couple feet of the rabbit which just stood silently, sniffing. Way back when I was about twelve, my dad found a bunch of baby rabbits in the field when he was plowing. Since the mother had disappeared, I took over for her and fed the one bunny left. All summer I petted that little guy, and if I would let him out to run about, I would just sweetly call, “Minny, minny, minny,” and he would come back to me. Don’t ask me why I chose those strange sounds, because I don’t know why either! I carried the bunny all around the neighborhood that summer, just showing off my friend!
Yesterday I did the same for the one that the snake chased out of the wood pile. That little rabbit stood right in the same spot, when he came out of the wood pile. Never moved a bit! Just sniffed quietly with eyes looking around and wishing mother were sitting next to him! Finally, I had to get some mowing done, and when I took the first step, he disappeared. I hoped he didn’t meet up with that snake!A few more lines about the bunny I raised so long ago. When it was too cold to go outside that winter, with snow packed up in high drifts, and the fields covered with lots of snow, I had to keep the little guy inside the house where he roamed around freely, poking around here and there to find out what was in every corner of the house. I can still hear the sound of his nails clicking along on the shiny linoleum in the kitchen or climbing up behind the ancient radio where the tubes kept the area inside nice and warm.
When Christmas time came, we brought in the huge tree to sit in one corner of the living room. Talk about master of all I survey! Why do I mention this? I’ll bet I was one of the very few who had a rabbit or other creature that climbed up from the metal holder on the floor all the way up to the highest branches, pulling off small branches if she wanted to, or just sitting comfortably on another. The scent of that tree called for her to come for a visit from time to time, keeping her acquainted with the outdoors where she really belonged.
The following spring, we let her go. At first she would come bounding back to me from one of her short journeys, and as I would call “Minny, minny,” she would come to be petted. But all things really do come to an end, and after a week or two, that little bunny, not so little any more, didn’t come back but joined up with her own kind, which is really what I was hoping, although I still have kindly thoughts of my friend who left me about 75 years ago. – CHRIS