June 29, 2008
The feral bunny at leisure
Notice the insouciance of the backward-and-to-the-bunny’s-leftward cast of the rear feet.
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17 Responses to “The feral bunny at leisure”
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Notice the insouciance of the backward-and-to-the-bunny’s-leftward cast of the rear feet.
17 Responses to “The feral bunny at leisure”
Leave a Reply
That’s one relaxed bunny. “Feral bunny” makes me giggle.
I Googled “feral bunny”. The first two hits were Cooper’s bunny. One fof the other hits was “My Feral Bunny Spore Creature” viewed here:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=q2MJAy4-kpA
Weird.
As far as I’m concerned, Cooper owns the “feral bunny” intellectual property.
AP will have to pay him if they want to use that content.
I hope to see an entire Feral Bunny Series. A Feral Bunny Photo-Essay.
we got a feral bunny here, he’s taken up with the feral cats and is a 3x escapee from the neighbour’s Alcatraz hutch
he’s also better camouflaged
When I was about six, my sister and I had two rabbits–Thumper and Cheerio. A dog got one of them in a ghastly way, and then we no longer wanted the other one. A call was made and a distinguished looking man appeared at the door to claim the animal. He drove away with it riding in the front seat of a red sports car. We concluded that he must be a magician.
The other thing I remember about the rabbits is that the little pellets of food you feed them look very similar to their shit.
Daryl, I instantly imagined your rabbit recollection as an illustrated children’s book. “A distinguished looking man appeared at the door” has the ring of the great kids’ books of the 1940s and 1950s — and then you could also market it as one of those “helping children come to grips with ______ ” books. (In this instance, I reckon it would be “helping children come to grips with bloody bunnies”. This might be better implied than represented graphically.)
It must feel quite safe to be a bunny living on Azalea Lane.
Daryl, for the kiddies, leave out the part about the shit.
Myself, I was kind of thinking about the blood. Not so much the shit. Thinking of the red sports car as kind of, you know, standing in for bunny blood.
Cruella DeVille shits herself with glee while racing off in her long red sports car. Yeah, that’s the ticket.
Daryl, I like to die laughing! When I was a little-bitty girl-child, I wanted the Cruella DeVille look in the worst possible way (when I wasn’t sitting in the closet with a lampshade on my head pretending to be Lewis Carroll’s White Queen). I pestered my mother about dyeing my hair and seizing a cigarette holder.
The odd thing was, my beloved pet was a Dalmatian.
We worry about the feral cats or the occasionally freed dog getting at the bunny, which roams at will among my mom’s yard and the two to either side (and possibly further?). The fences should keep a dog out, but the cats–ay.
The feral bunny of Azalea Lane is pretty big. True, my Lena did get a bunny once down in southernmost Illinois. But it was a little ‘un.
No. ‘Scuse me. She got two. First one I found just dead out of doors. Second one: Well, I found the head at the base of the stairs one morning.
Still, that’s one big bunny. I can’t imagine a cat getting it.
Well, of course, I can imagine a cat getting it, but I can’t imagine why. Cats aren’t dumb. Unless they are terribly desperate and no smaller, weaker thing is available, they’ll not waste precious time and energy on going after a creature close to their own size.
I had a cat once–named Santa Claus–who not only killed a grown jack rabbit nearly twice his size, but dragged it up a steep ravine to the back door of the house.
I worried for the safety of unattended children while Santa Claus was alive.
Hmm. Your tiger has been known to kill your guar. Hmm.