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!