The Wabbit and the parking question

The Wabbit was always wondering about how things worked. Even in his own neighbourhood, which he knew better than most, he felt he had never quite understood everything. But when he noticed the big new sign, he knew that there was something going on. Something to do with space. Although the Wabbit had made his home in the city, he remembered the vast open spaces of wabbit territory. There, no-one would dream of demanding hay or carrots from another wabbit for a space. Wabbits had no need of parkings, so the Wabbit hopped away with relief. He didn't have to put the matter on his list (which was already rather long). And as he loped home he quietly folded his list and tucked it away. Phew! A relaxing weekend was what the Wabbit needed. But then, you could never tell with the Wabbit.

The Wabbit meets the Firefighters

On his journey to town, the Wabbit kept to the edges - except here where it was difficult (but not impossible) to be incognito. As he headed round the corner, keeping his ears down and his eyes wide open, he noticed a wonderful beast. It was bwight red and there were flashing lights. "Ooh", said the Wabbit. "I would love to ride in that fire engine and scale the great ladder." But there didn't seem to be a fire. The Wabbit was glad about that, but at the same time he felt he had missed all the fun. And just as he was thinking about it, a fireman looked down at him and gave him a cheery wave. The Wabbit was delighted. He binkied slightly and did that funny thing with his ears. But then he was puzzled. "No-one usually sees the Wabbit", he thought.

The Wabbit considers Comfortable Shoes

The Wabbit was delighted to reach a leaves-free area. Although it seemed very quiet indeed, he much preferred his own neighbourhood, if the truth be known. All this gallivanting around spook territory had quite worn him out. Concerns had been expressed about the state of the Wabbits's paws with all these leaves and the constant flooding in the streets. So the Wabbit had actively considered footwear - even if was unusual for a wabbit. The Wabbit therefore looked at the sign with interest. But he had no shoes to repair, far less three. Three pairs would be greedy, thought the Wabbit, because he knew there were many mammals with no shoes at all. Perhaps if he just took his paws to the man in the shop, something could be done. Something appropriate. Something made to measure. Or maybe he could just wait for better weather. He looked at the signs again and he decided there was nothing he really needed. He didn't need keys (he tittered at the thought). He could probably do without shoes really. And what possible need could the Wabbit have for photographic prints? "Someday my prints will come!" grunted the Wabbit to no-one in particular - and he made that snickering noise through his teeth.

The Wabbit and the Leaves on The List

The Wabbit was rather pleased with the way in which he had disposed of the agents from Rabit. But as he made his way home he was riled to see something that he felt had been remedied. This had been on his list, but had been crossed off. Or so the Wabbit thought. "Accursed leaves" said the Wabbit. "They have not been removed as agreed - and now they've gone soggy." When the leaves turned into a sodden mass, wabbits were mightily inconvenienced. The slimy mass attached to their paws so they were delayed in going about their wabbit business. As far as the Wabbit was concerned the leaves were toxic, pestilent even, in this state and it was the duty of the powers-that-be to remove them. The Wabbit thought about direct action but there were more pressing matters to attend to. And so the Wabbit hopped high and only touched down lightly on the offending vegetation as he made his way home.

The Wabbit meets some Unsavoury Elements

On the Wabbit's list was a visit to the Big Toy Store to assess the social exclusion of wabbits. But he had no sooner approached the displays when he heard a tinny voice. "Hey Wabbit!". The Wabbit could not believe his ears and he thought "Whatever next?" The tinny voice persisted. "We are agents of Rabit. The Rapid Border Intervention Team. We demand that you produce your Certificate of Existence." The Wabbit was naturally a good natured sort by nature. But he could feel his temper getting a little frayed round the edges - especially after the skeleton incident. "Now look sunshine", he growled. "I have limited patience. Take your stooges and be off with you." "And if we don't?", sneered the agent of Rabit. The Wabbit had already assessed the situation. "I have friends here and they are becoming restless. They are global mammals and they don't hold with borders. The wallabies especially don't feel the need for certificates to prove they're here." The Wabbit could hear a stomping of marsupial feet from behind him, so he paused for effect. "Oh stay if you like. Make their day!" But before he had finished the agents had vanished into thin air. The Wabbit smiled to himself and glanced over his shoulder - and saw several wallabies taking off their boxing gloves in a disappointed fashion. The Committee of Experts would hear of this. Of that the Wabbit was certain.

The Wabbit meets a post-Halloween Spook

One of the things on the Wabbit's list was the question of Wabbit exclusion, practiced by some stores. But he was surprised on this visit that Hallowe'en decorations had not yet been removed. As the Wabbit stared at the skeleton, he heard a faint rasping voice. "Hey Wabbit!" There it was again. "Hey Wabbit!" The Wabbit was sure this was some kind of trick and so he made a decision to participate. First he looked all around to see if there was anyone close by. When he was sure he was alone. he addressed the skeleton. "You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me?" The Wabbit was highly amused. He jumped slightly and the tops of his ears twirled and he continued relentlessly. "Then who the binky else are you talkin' to? You talkin' to me? Well I'm the only one here. Who the binky-bink do you think you're talking to?" The Wabbit laughed but then his blood ran cold. "I'm talking to you, Wabbit" rasped the skeleton. The Wabbit turned and, without fiurther ado, bounded to comparative safety inside the big store. Dealing with spooks was not on his list.

The Wabbit and the Dry Gents Cut

The Wabbit hated the rain. It made his fur clumpy and the back of his ears itch. For that reason he crouched in a doorway to watch the passing thwong. The Wabbit knew that no-one ever saw the Wabbit - but occasionally it was hard to believe. Because no matter where he crouched, someone would step on his paws. "It's because no-one can see you", said one of his friends. But the Wabbit knew there was more to it than that. Sometimes as an experiment he would position himself in a small out of the way corner, then brace himself for the stampede to that exact place. But he knew he was safe just behind the barber's advertisement. No gent wanted a dry cut on a wet day. The Wabbit shook with mirth as he chortled to himself (through his teeth).

The Wabbit and the Tactile Ground Surface Indicators

The Wabbit was mostly at street level, so he saw a lot of stuff that other people didn't. And of course, no-one ever saw the Wabbit. He had still to make his list but the job kept getting delayed. He was looking everywhere for inspiration, but inspiration came there none. Of course, the Wabbit did not like the way things were organised. He considered them wabbit unfriendly. As he looked along the street he thought of his Chinese friend, Sun, who would most certainly advise that there is no reality. Everything is "nothing" and so it was no use worrying about it. The Wabbit had a little difficulty with this although he found it soothing. But he knew for sure that this road surface always hurt his paws. Tactile domes indeed, thought the Wabbit - and he just about caught his hind leg in a twitch.

The Wabbit experiences a deep-seated Deflation

Hardly had the Wabbit renewed his acquaintance with his neighbourhood, than he felt a deep-seated dissatisfaction. What had happened? The Wabbit knew that on this door was a sign of a party, which clearly he had missed. He hadn't been invited anyway. But the balloons had deflated and they looked down and dimpled. Perhaps, thought the Wabbit, that was the way things were around here. Down and dimpled. The Wabbit had much to do and he hadn't even started on that list he had promised to make. His rear left leg started tapping in an agitated manner. The Wabbit needed inspiration.

The Wabbit and the Black Plastic Sacks

The Wabbit had definitely returned to the city. The season seemed to have changed since he was away and now there were leaves and leaf blowers and sacks of vegetation. The Wabbit did not like plastic sacks. Once, someone had thrown a sack over the Wabbit - possibly in error since no one ever saw the Wabbit. It had been rather unpleasant although it was easy to chew through a sack. The Wabbit supposed that people in the city needed to do these things to keep themselves amused. But the Wabbit found it hard to understand because he was in essence quite a serious Wabbit. "Hmmm ..." thought the Wabbit. "Black sack cwossed my path!"

The Wabbit on the Voyage Home

The Wabbit's vacation was nearly over. He looked out to sea as his ferry approached the dock. It would be an easy matter to hop onto the car deck and then he would make for the private lounge. No one ever saw the Wabbit. Which was just as well, because he could chew through a prodigious amount of stuff on a ferry. But he would be on his best behaviour, thought the Wabbit. There was much to do when he got home. In the ferry he would find a nice quiet corner and make a list. And no doubt there would be salad sandwiches to keep him going. The Wabbit wiggled his nose as the loudspeakers called for passengers to board. He hopped his way to the embarcation point and as he did so he hummed "I'm a pass-enger, I'm a pass-enger", chortling to himself through his teeth.

The Wabbit pays a visit to a Distant Relation

The Wabbit's vacation was nearly at end. But he had one more thing to do, having promised a distant relation that he would visit him. His name was Chief Wabbit of Galloway. The Wabbit had often pointed out to his relation that this was a title and not a proper name. The Chief Wabbit of Galloway had replied that by this time he had forgotten what his real name actually was. "And anyway", said the Chief Wabbit "What about you?" Realising the Chief had a point, the Wabbit no longer felt like mentioning it. Chief Wabbit lived in a splendid spot, so remote that not many knew it was there. The Wabbit felt that Chief Wabbit was a little reclusive for a wabbit. But he loved the lighthouse and frolicked around in the full knowledge that he would not be disturbed. It was certainly good to have distant relations, thought the Wabbit.

The Wabbit and the Great Wabbit Gathering Place

Now the Wabbit was not one for compromising his vacation with work. But when he stepped outside the cafe, he knew this was the place for the Great Gathering. And as he looked at the empty scene, in his mind it suddenly filled with wabbits. Rank upon serried rank of wabbits came streaming down the hill to the fence until no grass could be seen. And he saw himself, the Wabbit, flanked on either side by a bwigade of marsh wabbits, addressing the vast gathering. It was indeed a mighty sight. Then gradually, the scene faded and there were only fields again. Yes, thought the Wabbit. This should be the place. But the Wabbit knew it didn't matter who addressed the wabbits really. as long as the Wabbits gathered and were as one.

The Wabbit and the Flying Food

The Wabbit's holiday was destined to be interesting. Breakfast for the Wabbit usually consisted of hay, but he was on vacation. In a small tearoom in an isolated and beautiful spot, he stopped for breakfast. The Wabbit nestled behind a menu on a table and smelled the strange and exotic smells. "A change is a good as a rest", he said to himself. It was not often that the Wabbit was surprised but when he saw the flying food he was amazed. So this is how they do it round here! And then the Wabbit imagined flying hay, flying carrots and flying salad sandwiches. Just wait 'til I tell my friends, thought the Wabbit and wiggled his nose.

The Wabbit takes the Ferry

The Wabbit was so relaxed that he nearly missed his connection. But now, after a nice meal and having taken due care with his diet, the Wabbit was on board. He felt a mild desire to binky as he nestled in a discreet corner of the saloon bar on the last ferry of the evening. But he thought the better of it, because it was important that no-one ever saw the Wabbit come or go. Even Mr Brogan had told him "I never saw you!", after he had given him a lift. The Wabbit was certainly enjoying his vacation and he loved to ferry hop. He didn't mind the water, having taken lessons from Uncle Bill the marsh wabbit, who was an expert on marine matters. The Wabbit settled back for a snooze. There was lots to see tomorrow.