I write a monthly column for my local newspaper. Like a child, I still pretend I’m Kolchak the Night Stalker, but there are no cool monsters in the Hudson Valley, so I’m more like a lame version of Lois Lane.
While pounding the Mac, preparing an article about the Gilded Age: ‘The Haves and the Never Had,’ something outside my window leaped into my periphery. A wiry rabbit was frittering about. I jealously observed. In that moment, I wanted to be him – nary a care in the world except survival and the hungry hawk eyeing him from a nearby tree. He stopped and set his hopped-up nose on the garden Buddha. I believe bunny and Buddha exchanged words. Then his soft brown fur disappeared. I imagine he fell down a rabbit hole where all wonderful creatures commune.
The little guy directly below – who I think is just adorable – was inspired by the Mad Hatter possibly, or ‘he’ could be a mashup of the Hunchback, Willy Wonka, Fred Astaire and Dr. Frank N. Furter from Rocky Horror. The cuties below him can be found down the mysterious hole. Except, they do surface now and again on sunny days.
These albino sloths shouldn’t be in the sun for too long –