The Attack Of The Killer Bunny

Becky was her name and chasing rabbits was her game. One in particular. Being a Cairn Terrier, Becky felt it her duty to live up to the reputation of her breed and excel at hunting, tracking, barking at and just the general terrorizing of one of our pet rabbits.

She soon became very good at it and as soon as she was allowed out doors, the games began. If the bunny was nowhere to be found then a chipmunk would have to suffice. Groundhogs were another problem for her to deal with and she gave it her all.

I would let her out the back door in the morning and soon I would hear her announcing to the world at large that soon the yard would be free of furry interlopers. She took her responsibilities seriously you see.

She would watch from the gate as I made my way to the hen house, and be there to greet me when I returned. It was also her duty to make sure no renegade chickens were accompanying me back to her yard.

We had kept rabbits for years and one in particular had become a pet. He was a little golden lop eared sweetheart named Flower. The rabbits lived in their custom made village at the back of our property and every now and then, Flower hopped out of the coop and came visiting.

Becky would announce his presence to me in loud, hysterical happy yaps and the chase was on. Round and round we'd go. Becky chasing Flower, me chasing Becky, my husband sitting on the back porch shaking his head.

Flower would weave through the landscape like a pro. Under the bushes and around the trees they'd go till with gasping breath, I would join my husband on the porch to watch the usual outcome.

Becky always tired first and would sit her self down in the middle of the yard, yapping merrily, while Flower continued to run circles around her.

That was my opportunity to grab the dog, secure her in the house and get Flower back into the Rabbit Village. A task not easily done because, by that time, Flower was mad as the proverbial wet hen and wasn't in a mood to be messed with.

This drama was acted out every time those two were in the yard together and it always ended the same way. Becky sitting there yapping, Flower in a mad tizzy and me trying desperately to keep the two of them separated.

One summer afternoon, Flower, having had enough of the race, decided to take matters into his own hands.... or should that be feet?

We had invited my in-laws over for a cook out and as I was preparing the grill on the back deck, I heard the beginnings, of what turned out to be, the last rabbit rumble in the yard.

Sure enough, here they came! As I stood watching, a flash of gold whizzed by with a flash of white fast on his trail. Round and round the yard they ran with me, spatula in hand, bringing up the rear.

Then, in an instant, the tables turned forever. Flower ran behind a bush and stopped. Becky went into her "A HA, I'VE GOT YOU" mode and I sat down behind her and tried to catch my breath.

Slowly a golden nose emerged, Becky prepared to resume the chase and I stretched out in the grass for a much needed nap. The chase was on again, only this time with a different twist.

You see, while he was hidden behind the bush, our little Flower had changed into a raging weed! No more Mr. nice guy for him. He had donned his mask and cape and morphed into "SUPER BUNNY!" He stepped out flexing his muscles and beating his chest, and with a flick of his floppy ears, he leaped into the air with a single bound and landed square on Becky's back.

Surprised, shocked and amazed, Becky took off with a howl! Flower exited her back and was in hot pursuit. Round and round they ran, Becky fleeing, Super Bunny pursuing her all the way to the dogie door through which the newly pursued, disappeared in a flash. The weed, being unable to apply his brakes, crashed into the bottom panel of the door with a loud thud.

Stepping back, he gave his long ears a shake for emphasis, turned around and hopped proudly off the porch. He took his time as he made his way across the yard. Stopping to nibble on sweet-grass now and then, he moved in proud confidence toward the rabbit compound. There was no hurry. After all, Super Bunny had arrived and never again would he be bothered by the yapping monster that had made his life so tedious.

There is something to be said for turning the other cheek. But I found out that day, there is also something to be said for standing your ground. Becky never bothered Flower again. In fact, from then on, whenever I let her out the back door she would sit on the deck for a while, scanning the yard, making sure it was free of marauding bunnies. Flower had conquered.

[ by Sylvia Carroll -- from 'Themestream' ]