I remember the little story that I told my father to amuse him as he passed away his time in the nursing home. Father had a tender heart and as he sat in the gloom of his room, he leaned in toward me to hear about the poor little runty bunny rabbit that I had been feeding seeds for the past several days. I told him that I was worried about it because it was so small and it did not move around much. It just sat quietly with it head turned into some tall grasses near my house so that all I could see was its rump. It was warm and quivered when I poked it, so each day I just dropped a few seeds next to it for encouragement. On that day I had noticed that its fur was sleek rather than fluffy like a rabbit, so I gave it a firmer poke and it scurried away so that I saw it was not a runty bunny but a rat! Father was quite startled to hear this and enjoyed the twist of this true story. It was good to hear him laugh.
Caption: Not A Runty Bunny But A Rat
by Annmarie Throckmorton 2018