Hi, all, When I recently returned from a dog show after having been away for four or so days, there was a little black bunny in my yard, which I guessed had been drawn to the salt lick (for the deer), grass and flowers; he was obviously no ravager of gardens & seemed content with dining on wild daisies and grass; he left my flowers unmunched. He was also not a wild bunny--seemed oblivious to the possibility of raptors (owls and hawks mainly), coyotes, and other assorted bunny evildoers. I think the only reason he has survived so far is that he is dark although an owl biologist once told me that owls rely on their keen hearing at night for locating prey, so this little guy's days may be numbered unless it starts and keeps raining. I named this bunny Amiable as this seems to be his chief trait; he is an altogether pleasant individual--mild and stalwart; he hops around when he ventures into the yard; drinks and eats and scratches and stretches out next to the salt lick; snoozes; occasionally interacts with three yearling deer who also like to nap on the cool grass under a big white umbrella.
This evening I was working with my girl Taz outside the fenced area on her carting. She had just finished some good honest backing and tight turns for which she was being heartily congratulated when Mr. Amiable Bunny hopped out of the woods anticipating a relaxing hour or two of pleasant eating. I cannot think of a better distraction for a hitched dog than a bunny hopping a mere twenty feet from her snoot, and when I saw Amiable Bunny make his entrance, I held my breath and tightened my grip on the lead. My girl Taz was absolutely riveted but contained herself as her imagination is large, and I am sure she comprehended what might happen if she followed her heart's yearning at that very moment. So she made no movement--no lunge--was steady as a rock--all was anti-climactic and I at last exhaled, as I do not yet want to learn how to handle an airborne dog cart. Not one to tempt fate however, I quickly unhitched her and removed the cart. Then I praised and congratulated her for her restraint as I knew it had taken some mighty self control. About that time, Amiable Bunny decided to hop over to one of the perennial gardens and sample some of the new blooms. As he had not previously shown any interest in the delpheniums, I hadn't been concerned but as I am very fond of my flowers, I hurried over to shoo him away. In response, he considerately made a leisurely hip-hop in the other direction, and it was at that moment that Taz lost it and became jet propelled, airborne and all the rest. Now I have always felt confident of my ability to hold onto my dogs, in spite of any sudden interests (after all, I weigh more than they do) and I can make a very tight fist around a leather lead, but in this case, she forgot she was a berner and thought (I think) that she was at the greyhound track in southeastern Florida. The leash tore out faster than a line joined to Moby Dick, and the force of my girl's lunge provoked an amazing and involuntary cartwheel from my aging and unacrobatic body. The next thing I knew the ground had collided with my face (this is what happens when you're upside down), the leather leash was torn out of my hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a bunny blur followed in close promixity by a Taz blur against the backdrop of pretty green grass and serene landscape, both meteoric bursts happening at a probably an unrecordable speed. It was then that I shouted, "Taz come!"--I hoped the volume would penetrate the haze of fixation, even as I dismally recollected some law of physics about the inclination of matter that gets going to keep going. Amazingly, in response, my girl stopped in midflight, whirled around and came! I was truly impressed because everyone knows how keen the call of the wild can be, and here she was resisting it, even after having scandalously listened. I think she may have heard as well the pain in my voice on account of what had happened to one of my fingernails during the cartwheel (I will spare the squeamish the details). I praised her again. All in a day's work. Once I had put my girl inside, I went outside to check on Bunny, but he was nowhere--probably in Timbuktu. However, to my surprise, he returned a couple of hours later, unfazed. He joined his three deer pals in an evening romp, either obliterating the brief bad memory or perhaps relating his recent adventure. I'm guessing that his Taz sojourn probably put him in good limber (me less so as when my limbs are forced to move in different directions too rapidly, my body is unhappy and slow to recover), but if there is anyone out there in Kalispell who has a conscientious, rabbit loving child who would like an excellent, amiable bunny as a pet, I know of one. Or if someone who's organizing a draft test would like a really good distraction.... Christy in Kalispell
