I took Fate out last night for her final walk before bedtime and, as often happens lately, we ran into our new resident, a wily brown rabbit. I think her hide-a-way is out there, among the donkeys and sheep.
Fate has often given chase to the rabbit, although she doesn’t really push it, and the rabbit usually zips under the pasture gate. Fate is a chaser, not really a hunter or killer. She loves to chase sheep too, but doesn’t care to make them do anything.
When she saw the rabbit, I pulled out my Iphone and I was holding a flashlight, so I pointed the beam at the rabbit and took the photo. Fate went into her mighty-hunger crouch, but the rabbit didn’t move. When Fate got close, she sat down and turned and looked at me. Then she ran back to me and stuck her head between my legs and stared ferociously out at the rabbit.
The rabbit decided after a few minutes to make a break for it, and rushed right past us and under the pasture gate. Fate watched her intently, then barked. “You were dissed,” I said. Fate is a lover, not a fighter. The rabbit has her name.