I was beyond irritated with whoever left the back door open as night fell (it was me). Our old cat Mario can operate the screen door beyond the steel door and when he gets outside after dark, he turns from docile domestic kitty to fierce feral tomcat faster than Clark Kent becomes Superman. And once outside at that time of night, getting him back into the house requires the guile and cunning of a search party and a swat team. It can be 2 a.m. or later before he reappears.
But I had to try anyway.
“Mario,” I yelled into the darkness. I followed this up with six or seven more Mario calls, each one more desperate than the one before, all of them dripping with anxiety and frustration. But, of course, I had to be careful to not let the cat know I was angry.
But this night, after a few calls, I was glad to sense an animal approaching the screen door in the growing darkness.
The creature showed itself at the door.
And there stood My Bunny, the friendly backyard rabbit that sometimes comes when I call her but is obviously oblivious to the fact that her name is not Mario.
I was happy to see her, even if she wasn’t the cat, and I talked to her as I always do, asking her what she was up to, and telling her I love her, as I do every time I speak to her. I have found that no matter how much you show a wild rabbit how much you care for her, she still likes to hear the reassurance of some terms of endearment.
So, I babbled on like this for a few more minutes until I heard a distinctive “meow” behind me. I turned to see Mario at the bottom of the steps, leading to the rec room, looking to be fed.
When I turned back to the screen door, Bunny was gone.
The other thing I’ve learned about bunnies is they never like to share the spotlight with any other critter.
No matter how much you express your love for them.
©2022 Jim Hagarty
