The misadventures of rabbits

I was carrying some wood past the house with my friend, and paused to pick up some tools off the deck.  Through the open door, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a brown…shape passing the rocking chair.  It might have hopped.

Things I never thought I would say out loud:  “Uh, I think there’s a rabbit in my house.”

I dropped the wood and stepped in, and the very-definitely-a-rabbit leapt up on the windowsill and hunched under an arm of aloe vera.  My first thought of course was for the camera.  It was so cute, guilty and terrified.  I don’t know how I got in and I don’t know how to get out!  I don’t have any answers.

It proceeded to hide under the stove and in the boot tray and I got pictures of blurry streaks passing piles of stuff (it’s canning season).  He didn’t do so well on the hardwood floor.   Zero traction.

She was happiest with hiding under the bench by the door in the firewood.  This is familiar stuff.  A little “half-growed” bunny.  Petrified and adorable.

I don’t even see bunnies close to the house that often.  A rabbit on the porch is an amusement.  It’s not like they’re nosing around all the time, waiting for a chance.  A chipmunk, that wouldn’t surprise me at all, the little opportunists, but I guess that’s happened.

Where I do see rabbits, every day, many times, is with the chickens.   I saw Galahad chase one out of the grass.  Coming through.

Today another (or maybe the same unlucky) rabbit got itself stuck in a chickery.  Foxy and her chicks were already in there, in their box for the night.  Four heads poking out from her watching the rabbit pace (it figured it out just before I got back with camera). 

What’s going on out there!?