A Story from Back in the Day: Be Afraid – Be Very Afraid –
By Wayne Halm –
What should you be afraid of? Well, let me tell you a story.
Back in 1980 Sally and I lived in a second floor apartment on Saint Peter Street in the French Quarter of New Orleans, Louisiana, USA. Those were good days. Sally worked at a downtown hotel and I at a downtown stock brokerage – we walked to and from work. We would go for weeks without even getting into a car.
I can clearly remember the day. It was right after Easter. I got home first and changed clothes. Then Sally arrived with an Easter Basket on her arm. She set the basket on the floor, removed the cover, and a rabbit hopped out!
It was cute and absolutely adorable. I knew in my bones it was a horrible idea – we also had a dog.
Both the dog and the rabbit scrambled around a bit, they each sniffed the other, and settled down. They seemed to accept each other, if not as friends, at least as family members. Sally named the rabbit Fairmont. Naive me thought the problem was over.
We quickly established a new morning routine. Sally would get up and shuffle into the kitchen – the dog and rabbit followed. She gave them each a vanilla wafer to eat while she poured bowls of dog food. Fairmont loved the vanilla wafer and happily crunched the dog food. It really was cute.
The real problem arose when Fairmont reached the bottom of his food bowl. He just didn’t realize that the bottom signaled the end of the meal. He hopped around the apartment eating whatever his nose bumped into – baskets, house plants, my shoe laces, my shoes! Naïve me thought the problem would be over when he chomped into a lamp cord – but no, he seemed immune to household electricity.
His big adoring eyes, long furry ears, sweet fuzzy face, and cute twitching whiskers all combined to get Fairmont forgiveness from Sally — Until she discovered a rabbit mouth wide slit in the favorite silk skirt. Then she applied some Sally Logic, “He is only doing this because of the stress of city living, he needs a more natural environment.”
Sally and her sister took Fairmont to their uncle’s farm. They released him and he hopped away into the woods, looked back once, and was gone. They bought new silk skirts on the way home. I replaced the lamp cord, bought new shoes, and French Quarter life returned to normal.
I am sure Fairmont lived a long happy life and made many little Fairmonts.
Come play golf with me — (while we can).
External Rabbit Photo on http://www.facebook.com/butterbin/photos