Rabbit Savior

            I was a rabbit savior. 

            “Jolly’s got something,” Jeanette yelled down the hall.  I couldn’t make out what he had, but I could see the little feet dangling down from his mouth.  So, I decided to try and get predator and prey out of the house as a unit.  Then, I found out it was alive. 

            I heard a little cry and finally got a good look.  It was a rabbit.  Jolly dropped it and it started to hop all around the house.  I was trying to herd it into a box when it jumped or fell down from the top of the basement steps down to the concrete floor below.  I figured I’d be scraping up a dead rabbit in my box.  Was I wrong. 

            That rabbit was running all over the basement.  So was I, for a while.  I finally cornered him up against some boxes where I could reach down, grab him by the scruff of the neck and put him in the box.  Having had my exercise for the day, I carried him upstairs and outside.  I made sure no cats were out. 

            I let him down, and he was as spry and active as ever.  He didn’t even hop with a limp.  Just a little guy, really.  A baby.  And I saved him.  I kept him from the jaws of the cat. 

            So, where does he want to go?  Out into the field to be away from our house of horrors?  Burrowing down into a place of safety?  Off home for a cup of chamomile tea?   

            No!  He wanted to get back into our house.  I had to point him away and haven’t seen him since, so I’m pretty sure he stayed saved, at least from our cats. 

            How many of us, though, like the rabbit, are freed from the jaws of Satan and then want to go back into his house?   Let us fly to freedom and not look back.