Like the old movie says, “It’s a mad, mad, mad, mad world,” and getting madder all the time, so God bless the creatures, great and small, that remind us of His blessings, each and all.
My wife and I have grown enamored, recent days, of a now-regular visitor to our backyard. We call him Bugsy. (Though in truth, we’re not likely to find ourselves close enough to affirm or reassess Bugsy’s masculinity.) Could be that his ears remind us of our recently departed and fondly beloved Schnauzer, Higgins, whose own auditory features were rather extraordinary in proportion to his size. Could be that we just like seeing something moving happily ‘round the yard again.
Or, it could just be that he’s cute, clearly knows it, but wears his comely countenance lightly.
At any rate, he’s a mighty bonny bunny, and we have learned some useful things, gazin' on his grazin' from our patio door.
1. You can’t be too vigilant.
Bugsy is a wary fellow. He is never so engaged with a good patch of grass (or the occasional lettuce handout) as to take both eyes off that patio door. The moment we loom against the glass, he freezes and gradually grey-greens into the exact color of the rocks and shrubbery around him.
More of us could do with paying such deliberate, thoughtful attention to what’s going on around us.
2. There’s always time to eat.
Some of us, obviously, need the reminder more than others. But watching Bugsy chew and chew and chew and chew is a nifty nudge to enjoy what’s put in front of you. A tasty morsel should never be taken for granted.
3. Sometimes, you’ve just got to push back.
We have birds, too, who like the taste of whatever they’re nibbling in our backyard. Bugsy generally pays them no mind, live and let live, but now and again, one will wander a little too far into his elbow room. A pause ensues. Then Bugsy charges. He heats up a headlong hop that scatters the aviary crowd and makes it clear he’s not to be trifled with.
Too many of us, methinks, are too easily trifled with.
4. It’s a beautiful world.
Our favorite moments are when Bugsy takes it into his little rabbit heart to play. He has no one to play with, so he chases himself around some small rocks in our yard, just to see how fast he can do it.
And then, just as suddenly, he pauses, carefully eyes the sliding door, and gently eases himself into a little swath of fading afternoon sun, to stare at nothing in particular.
He’s a generally happy little fellow, anyway, best we can tell … but he seems unusually content, in those moments, with the warmth soaking into his fur, and the light a bright, tangible, glowing thing all around him.
His Creator did mean this wide, wonderful world to be enjoyed. And to remind us that before, and after, and even during the whirling madness all around … the green grass, the dancing boughs, the brilliant skies and lifting breezes continue to comfort, caress, and endure.
I wish you the glad acquaintance of a Bugsy. To rest your soul. Renew your hope. Even stir you, if you need it, to a … lepus of faith.
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