The Wabbit is surprised by a new street

The Wabbit was surprised to find a new street where he had not been before. He explored right down to the end but there was no way through except to the river. The Wabbit knew there were herons there and the Wabbit was cautious (he did not weally like wing-ed things). For a moment he thought he saw a couple of the Shadow People who had been thrown out of Castle Doom. But no. They were only passers by. The Wabbit thought that people lived in very strange burrows. But that one at the back was one big hutch.

The Wabbit contemplates Chinotto

Finally the Wabbit got to go to a decent cafe. He was pleased because he was a very, very critical wabbit indeed. On a shelf near the floor he found a box of strange drinks. Now the Wabbit was partial to a small bit of orange although he knew it could be bad for his wabbit tummy. But an orange dwink called Chinotto was interesting! He had a very small wabbit friend called Chinotto who was a dwarf wabbit, but he didn't think they were related. He noticed it was just before 11. am so he could content himself with a cappuccino. Chinotto deserved more investigation.

The Wabbit fancies a spot of Lunch

Now if there was one thing that troubled the Wabbit it was spelling (not everyone knows wabbits can spell). All the more so because he was feeling ... peckish. So when he spotted a menu for lunc, he knew the food might suffer from lack of care. He was fond of salad and tarragon was a herb of which he was well aware. He loved tarragon! All the same ... you never know. Perhaps he might hop in and snuffle around the tourists' feet. Or perhaps he might hop onwards to the pizza place. But he was always hanging round there and all the staff knew him. It was just too familiar. On consideration, the Wabbit knew at least they could spell the most exotic names and there would be fresh basil. Gnam, gnam! The Wabbit snuffled and passed on his way.

The Wabbit expresses disapproval

The Wabbit was back in the 'hood. Quite nearby he hopped past a gateway that used to be open. But now it was all closed up with a high wall and a thick iron fence. The Wabbit stared at it with hostility. He very much disliked poor territorial behaviour. Did they really have to remember special numbers? "No way!" thought the Wabbit. They were getting too big for their boots!

The Wabbit watches a Mechanic

The Wabbit did not travel by car very often. But when he did, he took care to look all around. He was acclimatised to cars in stwict correspondence with the Wabbit Council Code of Practice. But he did not expect the car to go up in the air, because the Wabbit knew that is not the way of automobiles. And so he hopped down and saw the most exciting thing. A man had a stick with a light coming out of it and he was doing something to a long pipe. The Wabbit heard them talking about a hole. Now he was familiar with holes - they were a place in the ground, but he could see there was no room for a wabbit. It was some other kind of hole, not a dug hole. After an hour the man put the car down and the Wabbit hopped in the back seat. Phew, thought the Wabbit! It would have been a long way home with no car.

The Wabbit under Lock and Key

Still on the lookout for the people of the shadows from Castle Doom, the Wabbit paused and looked up. He knew the Lanes were haunted and that behind the locked gates were spooks of all kinds. This did not fwighten the Wabbit, although it made him wary as a brush wabbit in the high chaparral. The Wabbit did not care for locks since he could chew through a door (given some time and inclination). There was something behind here though. Something they wanted to keep hidden. But what? The Wabbit stood on his hind legs and rubbed his chin along the bolt. He would be back.

The Wabbit ducks down the Alleyway

In an alleyway at the back of the main street, the Wabbit found some evidence of the shadow people. The Wabbit knew that they had been thrown out of Castle Doom and they had to live somewhere. He was sorry about that. He knew that living in an alleyway is not for the likes of wabbits. He looked at the evidence, thumped his foot a bit and turned his back. Not good, thought the wabbit. Not good at all.

The Wabbit Looks Down

On his way home, the Wabbit could not help but notice what had become of the shop basements in his main street. There used to be all manner of interesting things. There were laboratories of various sorts and there was a shop with strange beds and seats for people with bad backs. There was even a photography shop. But his fwiend, Il Micio Cattivo, had been telling the Wabbit that the recession had closed down many places. The Wabbit wondered why things had got so bad. If only wabbits were in charge, he thought.

The Wabbit and the House for Sale

The Wabbit found his close neighbourhood familiar and did not bump into things. Not too often anyway- maybe if he was hurrying. There were too many leaves for the time of year and there was some economic thing that meant the leaf blowers had stopped. But that gate! It was never, never open. What could this mean? The Wabbit thought someone very important lived there but although he had peered through the hedge, he had never caught sight of a single person. It looked like the house was for sale. The Wabbit was annoyed because no one ever took the Wabbit into considewation. Now he would never know who owned the house. He twitched his nose and moved on.

The Wabbit is forced to deal with Change

The Wabbit looked up but felt a bit dizzy. He did not like it when things changed because a wabbit needs some certainty about where things are. Otherwise a lot of bumping into things happens. They seemed to be painting a shop he knew well and he hoped they were not changing the colour. The wabbit sidled up to the ladder thing (yes, wabbits are entirely capable of sidling if they want to). No one ever saw the Wabbit because they never expected to see a wabbit. And the man on the ladder certainly never saw him, even though the Wabbit stared for some time at his feet. The Wabbit felt happy to be back in the city and to see all the things there. Even though the country was supposed to be his natural home. The Wabbit, being a philosophical wabbit, scoffed at that idea! He knew he was an authentic wabbit and wabbits go where they like.

The Wabbit back in the 'hood

The Wabbit hopped on a chair and looked over the edge of the table. It was good to be on holiday but it was nice to be back - especially when there was biscotti. Now the Wabbit was aware of the dangers of biscotti. Perhaps just a crumb? No, no perhaps not. And what was that coffee thing? The Wabbit knew it was not what it said on the menu. The Wabbit felt himself very sophisticated and was affronted. He refused to even draw close and hoped back to the ground. Maybe there was better than this? Anyway, there are many cafes, thought the Wabbit. As long as the Wabbit was in the city.

The Wabbit visits the Garden

Fresh back from his holidays, the Wabbit checked on the allotment garden. He was hoping for carrots but could find nothing like that. They were not in season, whatever that meant. He did spot a strange vegetable but he was not at all keen. The leaves were OK but they had a bad effect on his tummy, a subject that the Wabbit was disinterested in explaining. The Wabbit did not particularly like the insects either. Perhaps some wabbits were better off in the city, mused the Wabbit and set off home.

The unofficial wabbit

The wabbit enjoyed his lift in the wooden car. Back at his temporary lodgings, he glanced out onto a paved area that was laid out like a tennis court. To his amazement he spotted what looked like a wabbit. It was sitting in a most peculiar way. The Wabbit tried to get the attention of the unofficial wabbit-like thing. But nothing he could do or say had any effect. What would they say at home?

The Wabbit and the Most Extwaordinary Car

The Wabbit was disappointed when he found there really was no room for him in the No 15 Sidecar outfit and so he wandered off for a cup of tea. Then, to his surprise, he spotted what he thought was a chocolate car! But it wasn't made of chocolate, it was made of wood. That was also quite extwaordinary, thought the Wabbit. Could there be a better way to travel home than in a wooden car? The Wabbit couldn't think of one. So he hopped in - and there was plenty of room for a wabbit in there.

Vroom vroom, thought the Wabbit.

The Wabbit was enjoying his holiday. As he wandered through a strange area with tents and machinery and small children with bikes, he was drawn to the chequered flag of Number 15. A man was working on the engine. The Wabbit wondered if he would win the race and decided he would look out for him. Perhaps there would be a celebration with tweats. The wabbit considered sneaking into the nose cone. No-one would notice if he did and he didn't weigh that much. Vwoom vwoom! (thought the Wabbit).