FREE
By Janet Baldey
MONDAY
Ah, here it comes.
Narrowing my eyes, I focus on the pink blob as it materialises out of
the Big House and winds its way down the narrow path towards us. At last, I’m starving. Oh, no – now it’s gone. I breathe a sigh of
relief as the shape emerges from out of a stand of trees and bursts back into
the sunlight. As it grows nearer my
mouth begins to water. I wonder what it’s brought today. I’m glad it’s the pink thing and not the thin
brown one. That one’s nasty. The lettuce
it brings us is limp and sometimes slimy and the carrots are stale. In the vain hope of being given something
tasty, Flossie – that’s my cage mate - used to flutter her long lashes and look
pathetic but it never worked. The brown
thing barely looks at us, just bungs the food into our cage and goes, sometimes
without even remembering to fill our water bottles. The round pink thing is
different. Softer somehow, but what’s
more important the lettuce it brings is freshly picked and the carrots are crisp. Even thinking about them makes me drool. Sometimes it gives us something special –
cucumber! I love cucumber. Or maybe it will be something even better -
celery. My imagination runs riot and I
must stop, my fur is getting wet.
Of
course, it’ll feed Flossie first.
Flossie is its favourite. Can’t
think why. I’ve shared my cage with Flossie for months now and she bores me
stiff. She’s got no conversation. God knows I’ve tried to communicate but she
just stares at me from out of those big doe eyes of hers, then they go all
milky and she starts to groom her fur. Only
good for one thing really and as it’s so dreary, being stuck here all day, I do
a lot of that. Sometimes, little things that look just like Flossie, appear.
Goodness knows where they come from.
Anyway, they only stay for a little while then they go and Flossie is
sad but I must say I’m pleased. They’re so tiresome when they start hopping all
over me just as I’m trying to catch a bit of shut-eye.
Oh-oh.
It’s here now. And wouldn’t you know it? Flossie gets picked up and stroked and the
pink thing starts making cooing noises.
Of course, Flossie is milking it like mad, fluttering her eyelashes and
twitching her nose in that irritating way she has. Oh, get over it for Heaven’s sake – just give
us the grub.
TUESDAY
I’ve just had a very
nasty shock. In fact, it’s put me right
off my food. Flossie can have my share,
I couldn’t eat a thing. It happened
this morning. Both the pink and the
brown thing came to feed us which was strange.
Even stranger, it was my turn to get picked up and stroked. I was so surprised; I just laid my ears back
and let them do it – both of them. But
what’s really bothering me is what I heard them say. Bear with me and I’ll try and remember their
exact words.
‘Nearly ready for the
pot Bert.
‘Yeah. Another few days.’ I felt my tummy being pinched. ‘Nice and fat. Get a good meal out of this one.’
They put me back in the
cage and I lie there quivering. What did
they mean? I knew it wouldn’t bother
some rabbits. Some rabbits are – to put
it bluntly – thick. But I’m not like
that. I’ve got a brain beneath my furry
skull. In fact, if there was such a
thing as a rabbit MENSA I reckon I would be up there with the best of
them. Given that fact, their
conversation troubled me. It troubled me
a lot. I have a nasty feeling that I
need to get out of here and fast. But
how and where can I go? I shall have to
have a serious think.
I lie staring through
the wire netting of the cage. There are
some wild rabbits hopping in and out of the trees. They have brown fur just like me; perhaps I
could go and live with them. I look
closer. It’s clear they’re a lot slimmer
and much more active than me. This cage
life has played havoc with my waistline although I deny most strongly that I am
fat - just a trifle portly maybe. However, I shall have to get into shape. I do a few experimental hops around my
cage. This wears me out and so I have a
little snooze.
Bingo! I’ve just woken up with a plan. It’s rather violent and I fear will involve
blood but needs must….
WEDNESDAY
It’s the pink thing
again and I’m so glad. Clearly, it’s
fond of Flossie so that will make my plan of action much easier. I wait until it’s unlatched the cage before
I strike. Just as it’s loading in the
lettuce, I give a blood curdling scream and launch myself at Flossie burying my
incisors deep into her neck. Even I have
to admit her squeals are heartrending, but I hang on and sure enough, taste
blood for the first time. It’s revolting
– no wonder I’m a vegetarian. No
matter, it’s done the trick. With a look
of horror, the pink thing drops the lettuce and turns to rescue Flossie, quite
forgetting the cage door is wide open.
With one bound I’m out and hopping down the path. It’s exhilarating. I’ve just
one thought in my mind as I hop along as fast as I can. Free. I’m
free at last!
Phew! This is hard work. Those woods are further off than I
thought. My hops begin to slow down, and
I stop to look around for a second.
Hello, what’s that? I’ve never
seen a creature like that before. It’s
not a cat; it’s bigger than a cat. I’m
glad, I don’t like cats. You can never
trust a cat. It’s not a dog; it’s
smaller than a dog. I’m glad, I don’t
like dogs. They’re too noisy and they
rush at you. This thing’s got reddish
fur and a big bushy tail; it’s not slinky or bouncy but is just standing there,
looking at me. It doesn’t seem fierce;
in fact, it seems quite friendly. It also
looks intelligent. Perhaps it would like
a conversation. Of course, that must be
it! It recognises me for the rabbit I am
– a bright rabbit that can discuss the state of the planet. I start to hop towards it…..
copyright Janet Baldey
A delightful foxy tail, can't imagine how it will end. Great idea to keep us guessing. Thank you for sharing it Jan...
ReplyDeleteA nice piece of anthropomorphism, made me laugh. Seems the poor fella went from the frying pan into the fire hypothetically speaking.
ReplyDeleteAt least the fox had a good day.