I Just Had to Lay Down the Law

When you spend as much time studying wild rabbits in your backyard as I have these past two years, you can almost not help but get to know them pretty well.

I am especially on some sort of rabbit-man wavelength with My Bunny, a smallish female who thinks I’m okay. She will sometimes come right up to me when I call her and she has fetched me when her food supply is low.

Consequently, I have learned how to communicate with this bunny in particular. That is how I knew what I had to do when I saw her come bounding out of our tool shed yesterday afternoon. In circumstances such as this, you need to be stern and project seriousness. So, I spoke to My Bunny in somewhat of a scolding voice while still being friendly.

Bunny froze when she realized I had seen her emerge from the shed.

“Hey Bunny,” I said. “What are you doing in the shed? You’re not supposed to go in there. I’ve lost track of what might be lying around. You might eat something you shouldn’t. So don’t ever go back into the shed. Okay?”

By the end of my message, Bunny had turned her head and was looking right at me. She was really absorbing my commands and I felt good that I was getting through to her. I don’t like to talk down to her but it’s not easy to do anything else with a creature that stands less than a foot tall.

I was glad I had gotten through.

And once she fully understood what I was saying, Bunny turned around and hopped back into the shed.

Apparently, my serious words did not register. Next time I will try to remember to wipe the smile off my face when I deliver my verbal discipline.

It is possible that bunnies don’t do well with mixed messages.

©2022 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.