Based on a real event:
Dusty Delilah Dog was her name. Hunting and retrieving was her claim to fame.
She never bawled; she came when called.
Her man was usually out of town; her golden face then wore a frown.
Yet she was a good dog; no more trouble than a frog. . .
U n t i l o n e d a y The KILLER RABBIT c a m e t o c a l l !
Short and brown was he. Soft and furry and no one would dream What a M I G H T Y F O E he’d turn out to be!
Dusty finally found her bark. We could hear it in the dark:
It said, “Let me at that rabbit please! I could teach it not to tease!”
Many suns and moons went by till all the neighbors began to cry. Dusty was being held at bay by a ferocious bun-bun, they say ! ? !
We wondered how and what to do to get that rabbit o u t o f v i e w. Some said, “Call some hunters into town. They would surely shoot it down.”
Others said it was animal abuse to let that Killer Rabbit loose
To terrorize the labrador like that. To solve this problem we’d pass the hat.
To get enough money to skeedaddle and get the owner from Seattle.
HE would run that rabbit far away so Dusty could eat, sleep, and bay.
And things could get back to normal again . . .
While we were trying to think what to do Killer Rabbit snuck up and said, “How do you do?”
He came a little closer to Dusty’s domain. Dusty’s face had a look of rabbit stew — or PAIN ! ? !
But Killer Rabbit made the first move, of which dogs should not approve.
Stuck out his paw; Dusty dropped her jaw!
From then on Killer Rabbit was . . . her friend!
P.S. This doesn’t have to be THE END. Send it to your dog’s best friend.
Once in a while animals do things to test our IQ. Our big dog belted out with a plaintiff cry one day and to our surprise-[-she was being taunted by a tiny furry rabbit. Over the next several months it happened repeatedly. The rabbit was smart enough to not go close enough to become lunch. Yet somehow the bunny got a kick out of picking on a big dog! People didn’t believe the story till they saw it in action. Soon the pair developed a reputation throughout the community.
One evening we had guests for dinner who looked askance at our story–till we heard what we had grown to call the ‘rabbit bark.’ As we rushed to see, our friends watched in shock as I hollered at the rabbit and he didn’t leave. I had to stomp out while clapping a few feet away to convince him to leave my dog alone.
Copyright by Hildra Tague. Contact the author for republication in print or online.