Eh, What’s Up Doc?

This pandemic affects everyone differently, I assume.

If you were to wander into Jim Hagarty’s backyard around midnight any night, you might catch him talking to rabbits. Rabbits have been living on his property for many years now, but Hagarty never really started striking up conversations with them till this summer, while he was on lockdown., although the bunnies seemed free to roam wherever they wanted to, unlike Hagarty.

When the rabbits talk, they seem more intelligent than Hagarty might have thought they would be. They have a distinctive accent which is hard to identify, but Hagarty has heard one of them ask him, “What’s up Doc?” which makes him think the accent seems similar to someone from Brooklyn.

Al Bossence Photo

Last night, a small bunny headed across the yard straight for Hagarty’s right leg, making him wonder if he would stop at all and leading him to question if the bunny was rabid. However, the rabbit stopped and looked right up at Hagarty in much the same way Hagarty’s little dog looks at him when his food bowl is empty. Bunny and Hagarty both looked over at the rabbit feeding station and both realized it was empty.

So Hagarty went to the garage and got some feed and sprinkled it into the feeder while the bunny stood back and watched. As soon as Hagarty moved a few feet away, the bunny moved in for his midnight snack.

“Well, have a good night,” Hagarty said to Bunny who did not reply but kept munching away. Bunny sometimes gives Hagarty the silent treatment which hurts the human’s feelings. Tonight, when they meet, Bunny and Hagarty will probably have a good laugh about it all.

The pandemic is having very little effect on Hagarty and, it seems, none on the bunnies.

©2021 Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.