My wife and daughter think I talk to myself when I sit on the patio and they see my lips move from the kitchen table inside. It’s not true of course. I’m talking to the rabbits.
In North Scottsdale, housing is constructed to preserve natural habitat for the wild things that preceded human encroachment. The vast washes that run between houses are home to all manner of wildlife. With a half wall topped by a metal view fence, most of the critters stay in the wash on the other side. But the rabbits get in and love to graze on the grass that humans so graciously provide for them. We always have anywhere from four to a half dozen bunnies living somewhere on the property and coming out at all hours to partake of the grass.
Rabbits are predictable. They look alike with their mottled brown fur, just a streak of red across the back of the neck, with thin translucent ears standing straight up and making up fully half their total height. And they act alike. Peaceful grazing is brought to a sitting attention when a human leaves the house. Frozen and alert, they watch from a distance, not running, but afraid to continue their grazing, ready to bound away at a moment’s notice.
At least that’s the way it always was until a few weeks ago when a new rabbit entered the bunnyscape. Smaller than the others, this rabbit didn’t run or freeze in place at attention. It politely waited for me to be seated then continued on its mission of finding the sweetest grass. It would move closer to the patio if that’s where the best grass was to be found. Not being creative with names, and never having named any of the other rabbits, I took to calling the new rabbit “Newbie”.
Now rabbits also like to scratch small “beds” in the dirt where they lay outstretched to rest and cool in the desert heat. Newbie’s favorite spot is under the chaise just a foot or so off the patio. And when I water the plants on the patio, Newbie walks over to the edge that defines the patio and licks water from the slate decking while the others, sitting at attention, watch in horror and envy. From less than three feet away, I can talk quietly to Newbie when he (could be a she) is under the chaise or grazing near the patio or lapping water with front paws on the slate.
Oh, don’t get me wrong. The other rabbits are ok. I speak to them politely; welcome them; tell them I don’t mind if they graze in the yard. I watch them sitting at attention afraid I might move and wishing they didn’t have their fears. I understand how fear works and how comfort can be found in acting and thinking like all the other rabbits. So I talk to them, politely. But Newbie’s different. Newbie’s worth having a conversation with.
Contributor, aka tidbits. Retired attorney in complex litigation, death penalty defense and constitutional law. Former Nat’l Board Chair: Alzheimer’s Association. Served on multiple political campaigns, including two for U.S. Senator Mark O. Hatfield (R-OR). Contributing author to three legal books and multiple legal publications.