Some days, I don’t understand these rabbits. They do not make any sense to me. But then, what do I know? I’m only a bird, a little brown bird.
All I can do is chirp. I chirp high. I chirp low. I chirp loud. I chirp soft. I chirp pretty songs. There are times when I like to chirp little nothings. I can even chirp important things if I want others to know something.
I know a lot about what’s happening around me. I know especially about that family of rabbits who live in the house beside my favorite tree.
Mama Rabbit, so kind and nice to me. Her family’s polite and usually pleasant to each other. They think good thoughts of all the animals in Farmer Johnson’s woods. Mama’s such a god mother. She wouldn’t hurt a bird, or a flea, or anything.
You surely know someone just like her. She keeps her home spotless. She washes and irons their clothes, even puts them away. She takes excellent care of the family. She cooks delightful, sniff goodies to smell.
A few days ago, I sat in my tree singing my favorite song. It’s the one with the pretty melody we birds like to sing. It goes like this: Tweet, tweety, tweet, two, tweet, tweety, tweet two. It’s a pretty song to sing and hear. The Rabbit family likes to hear that one. Mama Rabbit’s my favorite fan.
Anyway, I was sitting on my tree branch singing away. I got a whiff of blueberry pie. It must have just come out of the oven. It smelled so fresh and tasty that I thought my chirper would pop!
Mama always puts her pies on the windowsill after she takes them out of the oven. Papa Rabbit and sister Babs waited patiently nearby, so they could be first to have a slice of pie. It takes quite a while for pie to get cool enough to eat. They’re willing to wait, for Mama’s bakes the best pies in the world.
Older brother, Rab, just could not wait. He didn’t want the pie for himself. I overheard the guys talking as I flew past the clubhouse. They were making that part of his initiation to become a member. He had to snatch the pie from the windowsill to share it with the other members. They became hungrier every time the breeze blew.
I saw Rab creep up to the house. How would he ever sneak that pie with Papa nearby? Rab knew how wrong it was to steal Mama’s e. He probably thought they would surely forgive him when they knew why he did it.
Rabbits can be quiet and sneaky. Their ability to take things is well known. Rab crept around the house. Ever so gently lifted the pie from the windowsill…
And took off!
Only I saw him.
Chirping loud and long, I tried to alarm the family.
By the time Mama noticed my racket and looked up…
Rab ran across the yard. He clutched the snatched pie to share with his buddies in the clubhouse.
Pen Name of Judith Norris