Bobby Bunny and the Great Big Garden

 

                                                    By H.L. Dowless

One warm day in mid-May, Bobby Bunny went hippity hop, right down the bunny trail, until he arrived at this great big garden plot. This handsome plot was very nicely tucked away behind some sweet smelling pink azalea hedges, so Bobby Bunny decided that nobody would ever see.

So.., he raced right along, hippity hop, hop, and he stole ONE carrot, TWO carrots, THREE carrots for free! FIVE beets and SIX leeks before it was anywhere near late. Why, fellow that’s more than THREE times THREE!

Now Bobby Bunny made a habit out of all this stealing and eating, and as we all know, habits that form easily are usually harmful ones. But poor Bobby simply could not stop it. Why raiding gardens was SO much fun, and besides, if there was ever any danger, he could just RUN RUN RUN!

So every morning bright and early, he hopped along. Hippity-hop, Hippity-hop, hippity-hop-hop-hop! He was moving, grooving, singing a tune, like he would never stop; no, not from morning until late afternoon. Hippity-hop, hippity-hop, went-he-down that well worn bunny trail. Hippity-hop, hippity-hop, nobody will ever see or tell. In through those hedges he went, right fast, like lightning, and ZIPPITY-ZAP by the gardener he went, right PAST!

So, he hopped right along until he came to the cabbage, and he stole ONE head, TWO heads, and THREE heads of cabbage he snatched up for free! FOUR turnips, FIVE turnips, SIX turnips, now remember that’s THREE turnips and THREE!

Now the gardener never did like this much, and he vowed aloud to stop Bobby Bunny. So, he swung down his hoe with a great big CHOP! He chopped ONE time, TWO times, even THREE times and THREE! Yes, that gardener chopped so much that day I feared he might chop up even you and me!

But nobody could catch Bobby Bunny that day, like a cool mountain stream he ran very smoothly and FAST! Do all of you hear me now? I do mean that nobody could catch him that day! No not me, not even you, not even the falcon on the breeze, let alone the gardener he ran past. In between the gardener’s feet did Bobby run, dodging the blows of his razor sharp hoe. Out the garden Bobby did go, making the gardener’s head fill with woe!

At the same moment Bobby’s mother eased down that well worn bunny trail, and when she made it to the garden, what did she see? Nothing but that cottontail of Bobby going ZIPPITY ZAP, ZIPPITY ZAP, and she heard Bobby’s voice shouting with glee. She saw Bobby snatch ONE yellow squash, TWO green cucumbers, even THREE times THREE! Yes, and that’s more than enough for anybody. Yes, even some for him. Yes, even some for you. Yes, even some for me!

Around that gardener he raced, ZIPPITY ZAP, through the azalea hedges, laughing so loudly with glee. Well, he raced down that trail with his crop in his hands. So if he was not stealing vegetables, then where would be his profit?, thought he. Right down that trail he went, racing like rushing water, his feet thumping like rolling thunder, just whistling a merry song. Until he arrived at a briar filled thicket, full with lush purple berries and cat-claw thorns which scratched to the pure bone! Inside that thicket soft yellow straw was nice, and warm, and very cozy. You see, this was the place Bobby Bunny called home.

But his mother was very wise and fast herself, and deeply into the thicket zipped she, until she appeared behind Bobby Bunny scolding, causing him to tremble with fear and shake at the knee!

“Don’t you dare go back into that garden,” she screamed. “Do not ever go back again. I fear that you shall be stew before this is all over, and the number of my children shall be reduced from TWENTY to only NINETEEN!

But Bobby Bunny just smiled and said;

“Oh, dear mother, don’t you worry-any about me, for I am just too fast and sly for that old farmer, so let my last word here be said. He shall die of old age himself, before it is me who is dead!”

His dear mother hung her head as she listened to those foolish words that young Bobby sat on the root stump and said. When he finished speaking she glared at him and replied;

“Do not ever say that you have not been warned, and please do whate’er you insist! Just remember Bobby boy, that when you are dead, by all of your family you will be sorely missed. I have tried, and I have tried to raise you right, but you always insist on going wrong. So go on if you must, just please pause and think on my words, think hard before much more time has flown!”

So Bobby paused, and he THOUGHT, and then he THOUGHT some more! Oh soon he thought without some new excitement from somewhere, that his life would be such a bore! He struggled hard to shake those visions of garden vegetables from his head, and those visions of garden mud from his feet, and the thrill of being chased from his yearning heart, as he lay awake in his bed and fought with himself to sleep. So, up and out into the dark of night, he raced. He simply could not stand it any more! More than those visions of the vegetables, it was simply the thrill of the chase.., and the fear of his life becoming such a dreadful bore.

So, he dashed down that bunny trail, ZIPPITY ZAP, right into that garden yaupon hedge. SNIPPITY SNAP went the dry twigs, and against some loose border bricks his feet went BIPPITY BAP! SNAP went ONE carrot, SNIP went TWO radishes, SNIP SNAP went THREE times THREE! SNIP SNAP SNAP SNIP throughout the garden went all of those vegetables, you see. But then suddenly he heard a noise, and his feet suddenly sank with fear. Right beside him he heard the hollow thud of booted feet, and in the air he smelled the breath of soured beer.

“Surely I have you now, bunny boy!,” thundered a voice from the darkness. “Your time on this night has indeed come due! For you should have listened to your dear mother, bunny boy, and all of those who love you true.”

So. Bobby ran, ZIPPITY ZAP, and he dashed to and fro, YIPPITY YAP, but on that night he could simply not run fast enough, nor avoid the gardener’s box trap.

So, thus ends the tale of Bobby Bunny, please learn his lessons very well. Be wise and avoid all traps, and always pay heed to wise advice well. For the dead can never do any good, and fine stories of adventure have they never to tell. These all lie in the realm of the living, who walk where the dead once stood.

About the author: The author is an international ESL instructor. More details about him can be found here: