‘He’s a bit of a digger,’ said the rabbit breeder lady as she transferred Sidney into our pet carrier. Then, ‘Good luck!’ before cheerfully taking our cash, telling him to behave, and beating a hasty retreat through her gate.
A bit of a digger? What’s THAT supposed to mean? There was no mention of being ‘a bit of a digger’ on the website details. Behave? Why did she specifically tell him to behave? Why did she wish us luck??
Thus I woke a couple of times last night in a bit of a sweat borne of the tail end of my cold and nightmarish dreams that Sidney had decided he did not like his new home and had burrowed his way to freedom/ the wide open fields/the slavering jaws of a fox/badger/dragon.
By 6.30 a.m I could bear the tension no more. With rabbit breakfasts x 2 in hand I ventured to the mini-orchard bracing myself for, well, I don’t know what really, just as long as it didn’t involve blood and entrails. Edith came boinging into view, all enthusiasm and ‘Hurrah! Breakfast! Gimme, gimme, gimme…’
So far, so good…
…and then, there was Sidney, not boinging but sitting low in the grass in what can only be described as a bit of a sulky attitude. There was no evidence of digging, unless he was concealing it with his low, sulky attitude, of course.
‘Good morning, Sidney!’ said I, relieved he was still in his home and still intact. I opened his door and presented him with breakfast which caused him to immediately dash off in the opposite direction straight into the Eglu pod which is his temporary bedroom accommodation until he is declared a gonad-free zone. I set about the garden gathering them some greenery - broccoli leaves, chard, dandelion leaves, grass - to add to their breakfast and then placed this greenery side by side in their respective areas so they could eat close together. All part of the bonding process, you see.
Edith was very up for this idea and immediately tucked in, looking very coquettish. She seems to have taken an immediate shine to Sidney. Sidney was a little more reticent. This could be because he hasn’t been given anything green before and, like all young boys, regards vegetables with suspicion. However, looking at his body language I rather suspect he is convinced he is living next door to a Mrs Robinson femme fatale and perhaps a better name for him might have been Benjamin - ‘Mrs Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?’ to quote ‘The Graduate.’
Anyway, I left them to their segregated breakfast á deux - Edith sizzling her lady hormones and Sidney wondering if the best way to handle this situation might be with a pair of very long tongs.
Back in the kitchen and sipping tea, I was watching the garden birds piling onto the feeding stations when I noticed Mr and Mrs Duck in the field beyond. Well, I noticed their heads gliding along, disappearing every now and again. The grass is too long to view whole duck - periscope necks and heads is all the view we get of them at the moment.
And then…what’s that? Another Mr Duck? Yes, it bloomin’ well was! That feisty minx, Mrs Duck, is keeping the company of TWO Mr Ducks. Well! I’ve never seen THAT before. I averted my eyes. All this sizzling so early in the morning. Phew!
I’ll leave you with the final sizzle of the day - the view from our front door at six o’clock this evening. Spring is definitely in the air…
Comments
I’m glad Grey Sidney is settling in. Sort of. When is his appointment with the humane castrator? And will same be baking a cake afterwards by way of celebration?
KJ
I’ve seen Sidney digging, KJ - it’s more of a scrabble than a determined burrowing. But, as with dogs barking, rabbits dig.