Violent storms and tornadoes (25 of them were counted) are circling Toronto, adding spice to the hot weather. I sit here, working to pull out of a financial miasma, but the desire to travel gnaws at me. . To be back on the move, again, that would be so good. I even find myself playing Ian Tyson’s “Four Strong Winds”, the Canadian anthem of wanderlust.
Stampy the Rabbit is my most frequent companion. He’s a gorgeous slate-grey breed with fur as fine as a mink. He is nothing like the dull rabbits kept in cages. I let him have free run of the apartment, and he lives a life of adventure. He is perfectly housetrained, using either of two boxes of wood shavings. When I am reading on the couch, he will climb onto my chest and beg treats, and he goes into ecstasies when I massage him… but that’s an effect I can create on many creatures, large and small. When on the alert, he will stand on his haunches like a gopher, ears alert. There is a mouse somewhere in the apartment. It is too clever to be caught in any of the traps I’ve set. I think Stampy monitors his subsonic squeaks. They are building a 44-story condo next door to my building. Weird construction noises and vibrations shake the apartment in mid-afternoon. I wonder how Stampy interprets them?
For many years, I had a cat who would hitch-hike with me. I got lots of rides merely from the appeal of his poking his head out of my backpack. Think of the effect that a rabbit would have in the same role! But I don’t think he would take to it. Actually, I don’t think I could manage to get him into a bag without a violent struggle that would result in broken limbs and furniture. Stampy may be gentle when he sits on my chest, but he has the heart of six lions and the fierceness of a komodo dragon.
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