©November 13th, 2025
There’s a bunny in our yard…
Actually, there’re a pair of them, though which is the ‘he’ or ‘she’, I may never know, yet a characteristically fluffy pair of incessant nibblers they remain, nonetheless.
For reasons that will be eminently obvious to anyone who’s ever known my penchants for the absurd and the entendre, I’ve presumed the larger of the two to be the male, and named them “Stuart” and “Welsh”, respectively, and I make it a point to address them as such, whenever we meet.
Now, there are a bevy or interesting lessons about perspective to be gleaned from their relationship, and those of we humans interacting with them. To Welsh, Stuart is alternately a companion to be enjoyed and a royal pain, to be alternately tolerated and avoided, and I am an interesting distraction but, since I’ve never exhibited anything but care and concern for her wellbeing, and addressed her in the kindest and gentlest of voices, not much of a concern. She’s let me know this by nibbling (or should I say, “trimming our lawn”?) as close as 10-15’ from where I often enjoy my morning tea, anytime that she’s out there on her own.
To Stu’, I am both a major concern and, apparently, some sort of threat to his masculinity, because whenever he’s around, he’ll watch me like a hawk (which, come to think of it, is also a point of interest, since there are several absolutely immense red-tailed hawks and owls in our area, whose wingspans easily exceed 3’, and perhaps even eclipse four, and whose presence I would otherwise assume poses an existential threat to these miniature vegan neighbors). On one occasion, he actually charged me, running straight towards me from the far end of the yard, only freezing to stare me down when he was about 25’ away; this really startled me because, other than The Rabbit of Caerbannog from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, whoever heard of an attack rabbit?
To my wife, they represent a mortal threat to nearly all of her garden’s plantings (save for the lavender, which they apparently find too uncomfortable to chew) and therefore, an obstacle to her horticultural peace of mind.
To me though, they are just fellow travelers on this road we call “life”, and thus duly worthy of my love and affection and optimistic energies, wishes and intentions from afar, because who am I to judge them for living their lives in their own unique ways, if those ways don’t impinge upon my own?