There is always a line that one shouldn’t cross.  The dilemma is sometimes regarding the clarity of where that line exactly is! To give you more insight, I would like to share a classic fairy tale with a surprise ending.

At the end of my garden there is a fence looking out onto the plains of the Serengeti (that’s the truth actually, but it is the Johannesburg version not the Tanzanian version).  When spring arrived without knocking this year, along with it came a mass of baby rabbits (probably due to no TV reception this winter). The cutest, fluffiest little things that took a daily routing of hopping between the grasses just outside my garden fence line.

Now in my household, my two cocker spaniels reign supreme, to the point that my teenage daughter constantly complains that the dogs get better food than she does.  Imagine their delight at the daily sightings of the bunnies, and the norm became two mutts, 24/7 pacing the fence with eagle eye vision on the telescope-like ears bouncing in the grass.BunnyDontcross3

Cute, don’t you think? Well, that’s what I thought, resulting in even feeling the need to share with the facebook world said cuteness.  For a few weeks, we watched in amusement, shouting out daily “Hello Bunnies” in glee, intrigued by the focus of our cuddly loving mutts.

Till….. da dumm … a fateful eve when a bunny (bless its soul) – crossed the line.  A scene to turn this from a fairy tale to a horror story! And without giving the gory details, amidst much family screaming and chasing, suddenly the meal of the day was bunny stew!!!BunnyDontcross

Now trust me, you never ever want to be confronted by something you cuddle at night, filled with glazed, hunter eyes and lockjaw.  My kin and I were devastated at this horror!!  Angry, sad, disappointed. “How could they?” were the words being uttered as we buried this innocent little creature in the field. My disgust brimmed over.  And I am ashamed to say, my two very proud but confused hounds were shunned and banished for a few hours.

Yes, I know. Nature vs nurture. Instinct and all that. Once I had gotten over the shock, in a moment of acceptance, I acknowledged that I mustve been smoking Hope-ium to have thought we could’ve had playdates.  That no matter how domesticated, instinct takes the upper hand.  And that in all of us reigns true.

So with graciousness and regret and bacon-flavoured treats, I attempted to make mutt amends.

Some bunnys, are still out there following their daily play routines.  But these days you will hear a cacophony from my garden of “SHOO”, “Stay away”, “Can’t you read the signs?”

Tanya Long  2017/11/17

Read more escapades at Tanya’s Two Cents Home page

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