Gracie And The Rabbit

 

That's kinda cruel.

Gracie had frozen in midstep. I came up along behind her but I already knew why. There in the short grasses skirting the woods maybe six feet away sat a rabbit. My dog and I both watched with breathless fascination as he snipped off a blooming wild daisy at the base of its stem, nibbled it up like a little furry buzz saw, and in one final bite, devoured the dainty white petals. Chewing nonstop, our hoppy little friend moved on to the next daisy, and the next and the next. 

That's kinda cruel.

Slowly, slyly, almost imperceptibly, Gracie inched toward the bunny and I followed close behind. Still chomping through the drifts of daisies, the rabbit watched us unconcernedly. He stared at us; we stared at him - for sure, we were on each other's radar. But the bunny sensed no danger. And I knew Gracie had no malice on her mind - her setter's instinct is to simply scout prey and point it out to me. She does not capture or kill. Still, this bunny had nerves of steel because even when Gracie crept to within just two feet, he held his ground, sawing down the daisies and gobbling them up just as quick as you please.

That's kinda cruel.

Finally, the rabbit made a move. In a flash, he pivoted away from us and darted off...but he only ran a few feet before he stopped again, and began mowing down a fresh patch of daisies. As I expected, Gracie gingerly tiptoed after the bunny, slowly closing the gap between them once again like a red furry four-legged ninja. Just to be extra careful, I took hold of Gracie's collar, ready to serve as human ballast in case she decided to make a quick move. 

That's kinda cruel.

This is when I noticed a woman walking toward us. She'd just come from one of the buildings on the high school campus, and certainly must have seen our three-part ballet. I felt a flush of happiness to imagine how beautifully these two creatures had obeyed their instincts and trusted their adversary, and in a funny little way, I felt honored to be a part of their dance. As the woman approached, she spoke to me:

"That's kinda cruel."

Her words tumbled me over like a wave pounding the surf. Cruel? What part of this gentle tableau could she possibly perceive as cruel? Was Gracie cruel for showing such a keen yet entirely self-controlled interest in this furry, flower-gulping beast? Was the rabbit cruel for appearing to run away, but then stopping just a few feet away? Was I cruel for allowing the animals to interact, to experience and trust each other's presence,  to do exactly what each was born to do?

I wish I had asked the woman exactly what she meant. But I didn't. I mumbled a few words about Gracie's nature as a hunting dog, and she climbed into her car and drove away. 

That's kinda cruel.

I stood with Gracie until the rabbit eventually hopped off, and I wondered, over and over again, what on earth this woman had seen that made her imagine something cruel was taking place. I considered all the unspeakably cruel things that are actually happening to people in the world today: 

being shot to death in schools and churches and grocery stores, 

fleeing from Russian missiles and tanks, 

dying agonizing deaths from Covid, 

living in poverty, hunger, and injustice, 

And I suddenly understood that Gracie and the rabbit - like the lion and the lamb - represent not the evidence of cruelty but a perfect picture of peace.