We are being tormented by one of our neighbors. This neighbor, a year-round denizen of the Asheville East KOA, is cunning and daring, and a master of disguise, fearless when making raids near our campsite and equally fearless when we accidentally invade his territory -- which is seemingly everywhere and anywhere he chooses to be.
We know him as Ambush Bunny.
Make no mistake. The Ambush Bunny is not your usual silly, timid rabbit. He is bold, hopping down the middle of the road that runs past our campsite. His coat blends in perfectly with the colors of the asphalt and the fallen leaves on the side of the road, so he often hops along undetected until Maggie catches his scent. He seems to understand just exactly how long Maggie's leash is, so that if we encounter him while on a walkie, he does not move away until we are within about three feet of where he is standing. And he does not make quick little moves, like most rabbits! If a rabbit can saunter, Ambush Bunny saunters.
He does a "hop-by" our campsite almost nightly, which poor Maggie finds so maddening! She strains at her tie-out, occasionally letting out a frustrated bark, and I'd almost swear that I hear Ambush Bunny chuckling in undisguised glee.
I've wanted to write about Ambush Bunny for a couple of years, but couldn't figure out exactly how to describe him so that you could understand his devilish character. Last night it occurred to me: think Bugs Bunny torturing Elmer Fudd, and you'll get the picture!