There were three Easter bunnies across the street this morning, a trio of hares, larger than cats, feral residents of the Lendrum community in Edmonton. Sookie (the family dog) keeps watch, looking out the super-large front windows, ears perked up, intent on watching for his furry friends.
The boys and Julia, my niece, are about to go on a poker chip search, as the Easter Bunny left behind "tokens" as leaving the chocolate treasures scattered about would have prompted a sugar feast for the pup. They will cash them in for assorted eggs and delights, tucked away safely in a high cupboard.
I still can't believe how big those bunnies are across the street. How they have survived livid neighbors following inevitable nocturnal garden adventures, chomping on homegrown carrots and assorted vegetables, I have no idea. Despite their proclivities, their cuteness wins the day I guess.
"They can be very vicious," said Susan.
"Have you read Watership Down?" she asked.
"You mean you're ascribing fictional personality traits to real live animals?"
"I know, I guess I am," she said, smiling, realizing her deeply implanted associations that have been with her since childhood.
Meanwhile, the rabbits hop about searching for the next meal, the pads of their huge back feet black with dirt and mud.
Easter Sunday 2011.
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