Published Online April 1, 2017
Honestly, this would be a great excuse…I’m not sure my family would buy it, though.
It was another fine Saturday morning, and once again, I was spending it mowing the grass in my backyard. As was usually the case, I had waited too long, so after a half-hour, both my lawn mower and I were huffing and puffing under the strain of foot-tall weeds. I stopped to catch my breath for a moment, when I thought heard a voice. I turned around. Nobody was there. Huh. I listened for the voice again, and again it came.
“Hello?” A soft voice said, but it was coming from…below? I looked down and saw a rabbit sitting on the grass staring back at me. I looked over it for some sign that it was a toy; a seam, glass eyes, odd colors. Nothing. As far as I could tell, this was a real live rabbit, just one that could talk.
“Uh. Hello?” I replied. I slowly raised a hand and waved my fingers at the bunny, not wanting to frighten it. To be honest, I was feeling a little frightened myself!
The bunny gasped. “You can talk.” She said, her mouth and eyes opening wide in astonishment.
“You can talk?” I replied. My eyes also widened. Okay, this is weird.
The bunny blinked, shook her head slightly, and regained her composure. “Oh! We wanted to ask: Why do you kill the grass?” She asked.
“Kill the grass?” I asked back.
“Yes. You kill the grass. What you are doing right now.” She nodded her head towards the freshly-mowed area I had just finished.
I thought about my words for a moment, doing my best to simplify the concept: “I cut the grass to make it short.” I put a hand on my chest to emphasize my next point. “We don’t like some kinds of grass, like the skinny ones with the yellow flowers on top.”
The bunny recoiled in shock, her ears folding back. “But those are yummy!” She insisted. “We like the tall grass because we can hide there and be safe. Short grass is…” She shut her eyes tight and shuddered. “…scary.”
“Well, people like me think this looks prettier when the grass is short.” I waved a hand out over the yard.
“But aren’t we pretty, too?” The rabbit asked.
I don’t mow the lawn anymore. I haven’t seen any dandelions, either.
END.