Help, Not Just Any-bunny...

So I promised to finish the story about GB getting lost on the farm. Settle in.

Picture it: I'm wearing pajamas, my winter coat and some kind of inappropriate footwear (like I said, I'm not the best with details.) It's pitch black dark outside and we are looking for a small but very fast little animal. The expression is "quick like a bunny" for a reason.

For approximately 45 minutes, we walk around shining our almost dead single beam flashlight looking under anything we can think to look under. Another fact about bunnies is they like to sit beneath things. Finally, I decide that it's time for GB to learn about life as an undomesticated pet, when out of the corner of my eye, I see something white and gray dart under the shed behind our house. GB has been spotted! Again, using your imagination, picture a shed 15' x 15' raised about 9" off the ground. So it's too small for people to crawl under, but just right for a cute little rabbit (although if you still think she's cute at this point, we need to discuss if we can still be friends.) One side of the shed backs up to a fence and another one is closed off by a garden wall, so luckily we're dealing with only 2 escape routes. DM starts calling to GB as if she were a puppy dog- and as if she listened and responded to voice commands. I went inside and got a broom, which I used to coax her towards the edge of the shed. She would get within 8 inches of grabbing distance (just close enough to be annoying,) but when one of us would reach under the shed, she would dart back to the corner. After another 45 minutes of this business, DM finally suggested, "Why don't we get a carrot and tie it to the end of the broom and maybe she will come get it?" Can you hear me snorting with laughter now, even as I am remembering him saying that? But (now you will be snorting with laughter) we tried it because at that point, what did we have to lose?

2 1/2 hours have passed since DM discovered GB went out exploring on the farm. It is now after 1 in the morning, and I have to get up and be functional at work in mere hours, so I announce I've had it and I don't give a flip what happens to that waskily wabbit when all of the sudden, GB takes off into the yard. I'm hot on her tail, and close in with a tackle that would make even the greatest linebacker jealous. Victory is mine! GB is safely returned to her warm, cozy hutch and I am off to my warm, cozy bed.

Sometime soon, I'll have to tell you about our pet chickens.