Mr Dog and the Rabbit Habit. Ben Fogle
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Hey, you – white and fluffy! Over here!’
At the sight of Mr Dog, the big white rabbit turned and bolted away.
‘Wait!’ Mr Dog barked. ‘I only want to talk to you!’
He ran after the big rabbit, but by the time he’d reached the corner of the fence it had vanished from sight. Mr Dog knew that there was a rabbit warren full of tunnels in the long grass. Perhaps one of the holes led under the fence to whatever was on the other side?
Or perhaps it might go to Mother Rabbit’s little bunnies! Mr Dog remembered that she didn’t want to lead predators to her tiny ones, and so wouldn’t return until dusk.
‘I shall stand a stick in front of every rabbit hole,’ Mr Dog decided, ‘then I’ll come back at sunset. If the stick’s been knocked aside, I’ll know a mummy bunny has called by. If the stick is still standing there, it means no one’s been in or out. That hole might lead to Mother Rabbit’s home … and have hungry little ones inside!’
Mr Dog fetched several sticks and placed one outside every rabbit hole he could see. Then he left the field and went back to his adopted garden.
When he returned at sundown with a belly full of food – a fitting reward, he felt, for all the balls he’d had to chase and fetch – Mr Dog surveyed the burrows in the gathering dark. All of the sticks he’d placed at the entrance to the rabbit holes had been pushed aside – except one.
Mr Dog felt a pang of sadness at the thought of what he had to tell the little bunnies within. He crossed over to that particular hole in the grass and pushed his head inside. ‘Hello?’ he called. ‘Anyone home?’ His ears were folded down over his head, but still Mr Dog could hear little whimpers and shivering bodies. He blinked, his keen eyes growing accustomed to the dark. ‘I’m terribly sorry, but your mother has had to, er, go away for a bit. I’m here to help you find a new place to stay.’
‘Mama’s gone?’ came a quiet high-pitched voice.
‘Mama’s left us?’ came another.
‘She didn’t want to go.’ Mr Dog’s heart felt as heavy as an elephant. ‘Don’t worry. I’m going to do my very best to get you all back together again.’
A third voice came out of the darkness. ‘But why would a dog help a rabbit?’ It sounded deeper than the first two. ‘Dogs hunt rabbits. Dogs eat rabbits.’
‘Well, Mr Dog doesn’t!’ growled Mr Dog indignantly.
‘Mr Dog? Why should we trust you?’
‘Because D-O-G is the first part of DO GOOD – and that’s this mutt’s motto!’ He grinned. ‘I’m going to pull my head out of your home now, and wait for you all to come and join me.’
Mr Dog carefully wriggled free and checked to make sure that there weren’t any dangers about. There were lots of other rabbits in the fields, some watching him warily, so he gave them his cheeriest smile. He wondered if any would be willing to make space for a couple more bunnies in their burrows.
He waited for several minutes and eventually a very small rabbit, barely bigger than a tennis ball, crawled cautiously from the burrow. She was brown with tiny ears and big black eyes. Behind her came another small brown bunny, a boy, smaller than his sister and sleepier too. A second girl soon followed, the smallest of all. The siblings sat side by side, looking up at Mr Dog.
‘Are you sure you won’t eat us?’ whimpered the tiny girl bunny.
‘Certain,’ said Mr Dog.
The bunny’s big sister turned back to the burrow. ‘It’s all right,’ she squeaked, ‘we haven’t been eaten. You can come out too.’
Another rabbit emerged from behind the brother and sister. Only this one was easily twice their size with white fur, floppy ears and a pink twitching nose.
Mr Dog’s eyes grew wider. ‘That angora rabbit I saw – it’s you!’
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