As we passed the Hatfield parking lot on our way to Skinner, we heard a tiny voice say, “Uh, hey there, guys?”
We looked around, but didn’t see anyone.
“Uh, guys. Down here.”
We looked at the ground. In the middle of a parking space was a small furry ball. All three of us lean over and look closely. It was a bunny, all balled up in the sudden cold front that blasted Indiana Tuesday night.
We look at each other. Bunnies don’t talk. It’s as simple as that.
With a shrug, we turn and continue walking.
“Hey!” says the small voice. “Y’all hold the hell up!”
We froze, and looked back at the grumpy bunny. It had turned towards us, but was still hunkered down into a little ball.
The voice was sweet again. “Can you help me? It’s really cold out here.”
We all pulled out Rose-Hulman handkerchiefs, ready to handle any disease-laden wild bunnies. We approached, and covered the bunny with our handkerchiefs so we could pick it up. A hand closed over it...
“Psyche!” the little voice shouted, and the furball rocketed off underneath a nearby car.
What‽ It was too cold for this mess. We shrugged again, collected our matching handkerchiefs, and turned towards Skinner again.
“Oh, wait! Guys...” the bunny pleads from beneath a car. “I’m sorry.
“Will you please take me someplace warm?”
With a collective sigh, we turned back towards the bunny. Again, we tried to pick it up.
“Sucka-!” Squish.
We wince in unison. Ew. Again we shrug and move towards Skinner, giving a friendly wave to the Public Safety truck that just solved our furry little problem.