Harvey

If the local coyote is to be “Wiley,” and the local raccoons are “Rocky” and “Raquel,” then this little guy must be “Harvey.” For a couple of different reasons.

First of all, given the popularity of the play and the movie, “Harvey” is a natural  choice. I know, “Bugs” might be more popular, but this guy didn’t have a “Bugs” attitude. He was very quiet, calm, and sedate, much more like, “Good evening, Mr. Dowd…Ed Hickey was a little spiffed this evening, or could I be mistaken?”

Secondly, while I’m a huge fan of Bugs Bunny (although Marvin Martian is my spirit guide), “Harvey” was our high school senior play, the only acting I ever did (it was a blast!) so it will always have a soft spot in my heart.

Finally, and most importantly, it seemed that I was the only one who could see him. I let Jessie out into the yard knowing that the rabbit was there and Jessie showed absolutely no sign of knowing the rabbit was there. She was walking back in forth less than ten feet away and she didn’t smell the rabbit, look at it, perk up her ears, bark, chase it halfway down the block or out into traffic, all of which are her usual behavior when a rabbit dares to enter her yard.

I took Jessie back inside because I saw someone coming down the block with a pit bull on a lead, but I stopped to watch when they got by our house. The rabbit was still sitting there, but the guy didn’t notice it, nor did the young, healthy, massive, pit bull. Less than ten feet away. Nothing.

I grabbed the camera and started walking out, taking pictures as I went, figuring the rabbit would bolt at any second. Nope, I got to within about five feet. It just sat there and blinked.

I was late to get to the hanger, so I left it, still sitting there, wondering if maybe I should have brought Ed Hickey along.