Last year, my old friend Sukhdeep Dhami visited us and noticed a bunny couple frolicking in the back yard. Frolicking has led to multiplication since then, just as we were told back in grade school minus the detailed explanation of mechanics. Interestingly, there seems to be five bunnies now in the backyard. Due to un-availability of a facility and lack of opportunity for close anatomical inspection, I have to rely solely on my keen powers of observation to disentangle the backyard bunny relation-ship matrix. There is burly and stern, un-mistakable Papa bunny, agile and cute-derriere mama bunny, two adorable baby bunnies and a mysterious visitor bunny. Visitor bunny’s size and shape is somewhat confounding, but his timings and movements evoke suspicion. He visits often when Papa bunny is out to a baseball game with baby bunnies. Am I being over-presumptuous? Why He for visitor bunny? Why not she? Could it be that mama bunny is exploring an alternative? Or perhaps my all too male human mind is clouded by the visual connotations evoked by the word Bunny. Let’s face it. Even the most academic of rabbit researchers, upon hearing the word bunny, push aside the technical publications and pull out their favorite Center-Fold from the bottom drawer, followed by a most reverential salute of gratitude to Hugh Heffner’s greatest creation. Animal right activist will be delighted to know that all too familiar bunny costume is the only non-service uniform to be granted a U.S. patent. “History” buffs will be glad to find it on display at both Smithsonian and Chicago historical society....section of the museum frequented by fathers and their male progeny. I try to curtail my drifting gossipy frontal lobe with a profound anthropological question: Do I really expect the social mores of bunny world to be any different from their human counterparts?
The question actually goes beyond anthropological interest. These bunnies have begun to settle down in backyards, as per the articles of Homestead Act of the United States. Unaware of the complex domestic political issue taking shape, they make a strategic dug out right next to the fire place exhaust, for that extra warmth needed for multiplication. My neighbors have already started building a wire fence and support for the fence solution is growing louder in my house too. I, on the other hand, couldn’t be more in-decisive. I am weighed down by a guilt burden. It is true that I paid for the place with crisp and stable US greenback (now that our love affair with Euro is over), but truth is that bunnies were here first. They just weren’t party to the 100+ pages of ingenious contract devised by a good real estate lawyer. But I am a losing minority in this debate. The “speaker of the house” of the house has started to clamor for fence solution.
“At least fence will keep them out”.
“True, but wouldn’t the fence keep us in”. I dispense my philosophy 101.
One’s view of the fence solution always depends on which side of the fence one really is. Native Indians are perhaps the only group in the recent history, which has had experience on both sides of fence. First they were fenced out and now they are fenced in. Either way has been a misfortune for them. Has the fences really worked as a solution? Now extinct and infamous German fence, Israel-Palestine fence, India-Bangladesh fence, US-Mexico fence and if you prefer a more dated example, the Great Fence of China. As Genghis Khan told me once, in a brief moment of levity.
“China very smart. Build fence. Keep Mongol out. Keep Tourist in”.
As the political debate drags on, I have an inkling that my ex-servicemen friends are beginning to work on the military solution to the problem with a silent nod of approval from the carnivore members of the house. Details of operation 'Hare Raiser' have been clandestinely drawn and are being kept under tight wraps with a leak here or there to test the public opinion.
As a short-lived Colorado summer comes on, my gardening activity, as always takes a feverish pace. Papa and mama bunny have been here for few years and we have come to an unspoken understanding of peaceful co-existence. I have often watched them carefully making their way through the gardening bed without disturbing my precious plants. They keep their distance, feed on some of my tomatoes and carrots in inclement weather but nothing more. But multiplication is worrisome. Baby bunnies were born here. As they chomp on my true green Scott’s grass, they don’t even make effort to run away, when I pass by. They consider my biped form an intruder. I wonder if they won’t be as considerate as their parents. In a few weeks from now, are they going to view my garden as a free salad bar? Perhaps invite their female friends for a Multiplication Rave? It is an uneasy truce, ready to fall apart at first signs of trouble.
The question actually goes beyond anthropological interest. These bunnies have begun to settle down in backyards, as per the articles of Homestead Act of the United States. Unaware of the complex domestic political issue taking shape, they make a strategic dug out right next to the fire place exhaust, for that extra warmth needed for multiplication. My neighbors have already started building a wire fence and support for the fence solution is growing louder in my house too. I, on the other hand, couldn’t be more in-decisive. I am weighed down by a guilt burden. It is true that I paid for the place with crisp and stable US greenback (now that our love affair with Euro is over), but truth is that bunnies were here first. They just weren’t party to the 100+ pages of ingenious contract devised by a good real estate lawyer. But I am a losing minority in this debate. The “speaker of the house” of the house has started to clamor for fence solution.
“At least fence will keep them out”.
“True, but wouldn’t the fence keep us in”. I dispense my philosophy 101.
One’s view of the fence solution always depends on which side of the fence one really is. Native Indians are perhaps the only group in the recent history, which has had experience on both sides of fence. First they were fenced out and now they are fenced in. Either way has been a misfortune for them. Has the fences really worked as a solution? Now extinct and infamous German fence, Israel-Palestine fence, India-Bangladesh fence, US-Mexico fence and if you prefer a more dated example, the Great Fence of China. As Genghis Khan told me once, in a brief moment of levity.
“China very smart. Build fence. Keep Mongol out. Keep Tourist in”.
As the political debate drags on, I have an inkling that my ex-servicemen friends are beginning to work on the military solution to the problem with a silent nod of approval from the carnivore members of the house. Details of operation 'Hare Raiser' have been clandestinely drawn and are being kept under tight wraps with a leak here or there to test the public opinion.
As a short-lived Colorado summer comes on, my gardening activity, as always takes a feverish pace. Papa and mama bunny have been here for few years and we have come to an unspoken understanding of peaceful co-existence. I have often watched them carefully making their way through the gardening bed without disturbing my precious plants. They keep their distance, feed on some of my tomatoes and carrots in inclement weather but nothing more. But multiplication is worrisome. Baby bunnies were born here. As they chomp on my true green Scott’s grass, they don’t even make effort to run away, when I pass by. They consider my biped form an intruder. I wonder if they won’t be as considerate as their parents. In a few weeks from now, are they going to view my garden as a free salad bar? Perhaps invite their female friends for a Multiplication Rave? It is an uneasy truce, ready to fall apart at first signs of trouble.
As my friend and I sit in the backyard sipping our beer, he points to Papa bunny and starts an exploration of the opinion on military solution with a finely tuned subtlety, which is generally the hallmark of retired and active duty Army drill instructors.
“Satnam, I know you are a vegetarian. But have you ever tasted rabbit stew?”
