By Marianna Hall
There once lived a young rabbit with soft, dusty brown fur, a fluffy white cottontail, and big, curious brown eyes. This rabbit's name was Warwick. Now we all know that little rabbits are homeschooled, but unfortunately, there is no Scholar's Guild for small bunnies, so they must work from home, and do their best. Now, this little rabbit (with all of his brothers and sisters) had to learn about all sorts of things. Ranging from how to tell the best wild onions, and stealing from gardens, to staying hidden from hawks and foxes and other rabbit eating predators.
It was springtime, everything was growing, the bees were buzzing, and farmers were planting their vegetable gardens. The rabbits were spending more and more time outside, much to Warwick's delight, and venturing further and further from their burrow under the large oak tree. Warwick, like most young rabbits, had homework. However, he (unlike good bunnies) kept putting it off, saying to himself that he would do it tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, or next week. Warwick preferred to spend his time running through the woods like a crazed squirrel, and then sleeping for hours in the cool shade. Not that imitating a crazed squirrel was uncommon for little rabbits, but he could see no use in learning how to tell when lettuce was ready to eat or why rabbits can't eat avocados.
One day when he was bored of the forest, he decided, "I'm going to go to the farmhouse, just to look around," and off he went. The wood was a beautiful symphony of song, compliments to the birds, and the sun was speckling the floor with rays of warmth, that Warwick occasionally stopped in to warm his little back. He continued on peacefully until he reached the farm, where he stopped and looked, contemplating if he should venture onward or return home. "I've come this far," he said to himself, "If I go back now, then what was this all for? I'll be back by supper time, and all will be just fine." So on he went, through a small overgrown field (very out in the open), through an old wooden fence, and into the garden. He had heard about gardens, but he had spaced out and missed that part in his homework. The farmer had just planted the seeds, and it looked nothing like what he had heard of. There were no cabbages, no beans or peas, and no carrots--prized above all, just soft, rich dirt. Warwick liked the smell, but was disappointed, if he had paid attention he would have known that rabbits wait until there are at least sprouts before going on a raid.
Warwick was thoroughly enjoying himself when he noticed something big and orange hiding by a watering can--he didn't know what it was, he had put off studying other animals. His instinct told him that this slinking, staring, and frightening creature was definitely not a rabbit. He held still, being only ten'ish feet away, he knew he would have to run for it. If only he had studied! He would know the right thing to do--but still, something inside told him not to move. The creature's slender tail began to swish, and its long whiskers started to twitch. Then something came more terrible than anything Warwick could imagine. Seemingly out of nowhere jumped an enormous black beast, with fluffy hair and wagging tail. The creature, being visibly alarmed, turned and ran towards the house, the beast following in close pursuit. Warwick didn't care about anything but getting safely home. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him through the field and into the woods and back home.
When he reached the burrow under the oak, he was indeed a very tired and frightened little rabbit. After a night's sleep, he caught up on his homework the next day and discovered the ominous creature to be a cat, and the horrible and heroic beast was a dog. He was thankful that he didn't run into anything worse like a fox or a coyote. He was sure to spend a little more time on his studies, and he never forgot his adventure to the garden. He would like to go back one day when the lettuce is full, and carrots are in abundance.
This brings our little story to an end, I would like to think that Beatrice Potter and Uncle Remus would be proud. I hoped you enjoyed it and learned that a rabbit's life is not an easy one; and that It is so much better to prepare yourself before you go to the farm then wait until you get there. You may not be as fortunate as young Warwick. Have a wonderful spring. :)
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