I don’t exactly live in the hicks. I live about 30 minutes outside of a semi-large metropolitan area about ½ a mile from a HUGE lake. It’s a fairly well developed area, even if we don’t have a Moe’s or Starbucks. But I certainly wouldn’t call it the hicks.
Ok, so maybe I did come face-to-face with a deer on Christmas Day 2008 as I walked Lucy (my dog) early in the morning.
And maybe we did nearly trip over a fox one morning as it darted out in front of us.
But really, I don’t live in the hicks.
This evening, however, as I took Lucy for a walk I began to doubt that. We had just crossed the little bridge over the little stream next to my house and I was trying to snap Lucy’s leash on when out of nowhere a tiny little bunny went hoping between Lucy’s legs then between my legs. Before either of us had a chance to react a cat went darting the same way.
That’s when Lucy took off.
Then that’s when I took off. And there we all went, running down the middle of my street.
Bunny. Cat. Lucy. Me.
Now thankfully Lucy’s getting old, so catching her was no big deal. And just as I snapped her leash on, I heard an AWFUL noise.
And I looked up and the cat had the bunny in its mouth.
So I did what any normal “I’d-choose-a-cute-bunny-over-a-cat-any-day” person would do – I took Lucy’s leash off and told her to go get the cat.
And she did. (I was so proud of my girl!)
I caught up to Lucy and the cat went darting off in the opposite direction.
And the bunny? It went hopping down the street as far away from the madness as it could get toward the woods and away from civilization.
Suddenly my neighbor came running out of his house yelling, “Don’t worry Miss, I’ll save your bunny!”
4 hours ago