Rabbit
We’ve had a wild rabbit appear in the backyard throughout much of the winter.
The footprints in the snow around the yard let us know it’s been around. I can’t explain how happy animal prints in the snow make me, but it’s an instant joy.
I say the rabbit is wild not as a judgment, just as a fact, as in it’s not domesticated. I’m sure the rabbit isn’t really wild at all by today’s standards, in the sense that he seems pretty low key and boring. No party animal here.
Our yard rabbit is a loner, hopping about, sniffing around and eating whatever it is that wild, but actually rather boring, bunnies eat. Then it disappears until it decides to reappear again.
Spotting the rabbit has become a big deal in our house. When spotted, we quietly beckon each other, tiptoeing to the window, so as not to cause alarm. The rabbit sits perfectly still, like a statue, as if that makes itself invisible to the idiots lined up at the window in awe of its very existence.
We watch it for minutes, literally minutes, in whispered commentary, until it tires of us and moves on. Boy, do we get excited as it hops away. As if we expected something different to happen. As if it was going to perform a show tune for us rather than hightail it out of there before the dog gets out between our feet and chases the rabbit to the border line of the yard.
It’s ridiculous how excited this rabbit makes us. Like we’ve never seen a rabbit before. Like we don’t have two pet rabbits living in luxury hutches in our home, domesticated, and frankly wilder than they are supposed to be. There is nothing boring about pet rabbits.
Sir Andrew Lloyd Hopper and Dear Evan Hansen are both rescue rabbits that have been cared for incredibly well by our daughter for years. Spoiled, silly rabbits.
These two don’t find our love of the wild rabbit in the yard amusing. I feel their judgment when we gather at the back window, exclaiming excitedly about its every move, while they sit there wondering how anything wild could ever be as cool and dignified as they are, especially when they can do tricks (they cannot do tricks, but if you asked them, they would insist they could if they wanted to, because pet bunnies have serious attitude).
Imagine the epic excitement of last Friday night when the wild, but likely boring rabbit showed up in the backyard with another wild, but potentially less boring rabbit. I say that because, clearly these two were up to something. I mean, it is the season, right? (nudge, nudge, wink, wink).
Two rabbits. What more could winter-weary townsfolk want for excitement? Who needs cable? This is our nature channel.
Of course, I named them. You knew I would. Sid and Nancy (punk bunnies). They knew they were spotted, so the two bunnies froze, about a foot apart from one another.
It struck me that we were probably ruining a romantic moment, or at least a frisky one, so I suggested we step away from the window and let Sid and Nancy hop off to have some privacy. Everyone agreed.
Soon, I could have a whole yard of punk bunnies. Here’s hoping. I have the names picked out.
Ramone bunnies.
Seriously.