Fear Of Rabbits!

by Matthew Harris

Farmer Scotts Matthew took painstaking measures and planted this barely visible speck (along with his dust mote size brethren) within a residue of humus enriched shallow trough.

No mater the gulley just a mere scratch mark, the faith in said agronomist promised full maturity against any adversity to produce beefy, hardy and juicy strapping spike ship shaped specimens.

Cilia as the following bit of olds wives tale may be dismissed as nothing but difficult to swallow and unpalatable bunkum, horse manure, poppycock, et cetera, an irrefutable rumor prevailed for countless generations (bred from some underground grass roots movement), that the hands of said planter possessed magical healing powers that could ward off any threat.

These incursions could include deadly germs, draught, or dog gone hungry predators.

Thus when gently cradled with seeded siblings and swaddled by a thin blanket of top of the line nutrient rich soil, a deep seated, genetic gravity toward shielded against danger imbued within me.

I presume a similar sentiment similarly got experienced by brother and sister pencil point size future carrots.

This statement claimed from a yet to be vegetating non-vain tuber like plant.

Fast-forward until the end of growing season.

As this white whiskered pulpy pop points out at this moment, he remembers back in his earlier days when he frequently stewed over his conical not comical life when a groundswell of panic and/or anxiety toward that burrowing, damn furry, harmlessly jumping, lovably ogling Oryctolagus cuniculus otherwise called the common rabbit.

Hard to believe, I orange in a lee started life as a barely visible speck!

Aye con seed, that on a slimy Diet of Worms, this haint no protruding prefabrication!

Just in the course of a healthy growing season, this former minute nearly microscopic entity developed into quite a pleasing nose cone herbivorous specimen, though modesty restrains me to rattle off an excess of adjectives to describe the fine physique of this modest munch able mealy mouthed morsel.

Though my existence the epitomy of any ordinary carrot, the natural and man-made dangers got drilled into my cortex from the moment a sprout spring from that black kin décor fleck.

Matter of fact, the bunch of family members frequently primed and trained in case of a row.

These practice drills catapulted me (and must likely others in my graduating crop) out of our sense of false security.

Although just equipped with only a circular reddish trunk, and thus lacking extra limbs to apply defensive maneuvers, the techniques taught to us at the prestigious carrot league school focused on the artfully crafty movements sans wriggling deeper below the top soil in an attempt to thwart thumping hindquarters of one or a group of rabbits.

Now tis wise that those once cute bunnies heed thy advice and RUN RABBIT RUN!

Ever since firmly anchored in the earth via number silvery tendrils as a young whipper snapper, me dad constantly forewarned me to be on the lookout and take every measure to avoid the likes of Bugs Bunny, Kit Carson, peter cottontail and their motley posse of voracious appetites for destruction.

At the prime of full-blown young adulthood, and essentially as a grown prized well-rooted stew pen dis crème of the crop nose cone (built superbly sans shaft like), a promising adulthood awaited me.

Unbeknownst to farmer boyce Harris, this outsize conical vegetable would sprout into quite a handsome inviting healthy snack.

A thatch of tousled mop top red matted hair epitomized carrot teen years.

So…hear me and listen up, ye hares who house a harem of hungry herbivores.

Ye aint gettin to sink yaw choppers into me crunchy grate ‘C’ pulp and chamber that secretes savory sweet celluloid.

I yam not stew ped.

Over a goblet of fire me deathly hallowed juice will then pots sub lee only grudgingly relent.

Defense against the well red orange arts prepare this protean plant to avoid pursuits that whet an overly active appetite for suffering a like fate of the late mister potato head.

At all costs, an orthodox upbringing instilled herculean efforts to steer clear of radical stirring raw bits, which subversive underground posse frequently met a nasty outcome.

Many maudlin accounts repeated detail brutish slave labor that often comprise 1. a faux nose as an ideal abutment to hold up bifocals for an aging frosty the snowman or 2. never volunteer myself in role of that finds me crossing paths with a short, nasty and brutish scarecrow, or stroehmann well bread straw man.

These innocent furry creatures possessed two sharp front teeth that wrought havoc and rent asunder and turned many a loving defenseless Daucus carota into pet trill like liquefied car rot.