7

7

Edward is a bunny. He walks like a bunny. He hops like a bunny. He even talks like a bunny. Which is why he thought it particularly curious when the beaver pointed out to him the obvious: that he pooped like a bunny. It had been many years since that odd occurrence, but it still stuck with Edward.

Often, when the days were slow and lazy like this particular day, Edward would stretch out, hind legs splayed behind and forelegs thrust to the front, and ponder the possible meanings of what was, on the surface, an obvious observation. So obvious in fact that it must have a deep and Nietzschean-level philosophical intent.

The beaver in question had been, after all, not your ordinary beaver. For one thing he talked, and quite clearly, despite the enormous handicap of overly large incisors. A talking beaver must certainly be something of note. For another he was wandering through what could only be classified as an urban centre. Beavers, outside of the occasional gentleman’s hat, were not found in urban centres. It just wasn’t done. Bunnies, cats, the occasional coyote and once a moose of particular note, yes; but beavers were not fast enough, large enough or handsome enough to be allowed to roam freely in and amongst the general populace.

As a corollary to that, the beaver didn’t seem out of place. In fact he seemed quite at ease and was by and large ignored as he waddled his away across the square to the tree where Edward was enjoying the comings and goings of folk. Beavers were said to be high strung at the best of times, so a calm, talking beaver waddling through city central was definitely a figure to stick in the average bunny‚Äôs mind. And it had.

It had been many years and quite a few miles since the incident in question. Edward was nothing if not peripatetic. And nocturnal. And a bit of a narcissist. All of which to say that the beaver episode was more properly thought of as a distant event and not at all pertinent to this particular sunny morning in this particular park.

A twitch of his ears and and a shiver that started at his nose and quickly rippled down the length of his snowy white body until it shuddered off his thick furry toes, and Edward hopped to his feet and headed for the market. It was Wednesday, market day in the quad off the park, and Edward had things to do.

At the edge of the grassy area Edward paused. And pooped.