Digging is a favorite activity of mine.  I also delight in eating carrots and kale.  In fact, I enjoy quite a lot of things that you humans wouldn’t fancy.
     As the reward to the exertions of digging, I began to find tasty roots.  I nibbled enthusiastically.  I’m an athlete, just to let you know.  In my earlier days, I was voted ‘Fastest Rabbit of the Year’ four years in a row.  Even now, I keep up with my speed and outrun my master when she chases me.  As a rabbit, I’m not supposed to really care for my master.  However, in more than one way I’m not you’re ordinary rabbit. You probably have already noticed that from my ability to type and from my knowledge of the English language.  I love my owner because she saved me from a horrifying end, but I shouldn’t jump into things.  Let me start at the beginning….

     I grew up in a hutch.  I’m a domesticated rabbit, descended from the hare, of course.  I barely remember my mother; I was taken away from her at a young age.  When I was but three weeks old, a strange thing came to look in the door at my brothers and sisters and I.  He smiled crookedly and began to gloat.  I backed away from that smile.  My instincts tuned in; they told me that predators always showed their teeth as a threat.  Later I learned that it was a man, and in his world, a smile was an expression of joy and happiness.  He must have been happy about the litter, because there were thirteen in all.  The strange creature wasn’t evil, just careless.  He left the hutch door open.
     I had two impulses at that moment: to get out and to stay.  Those impulses warred for awhile.  My curiosity finally got the better of me, and my quivering legs pushed.  I tumbled onto a strange, moving surface.  I later learned that it was called grass, but you’re not exactly omniscient when you’re three weeks old.  My nose twitched at this green surface, which gleamed with wet dew.  My mother anxiously made grunts of distress while my twelve brothers and sisters followed my example; not that it was a very good one.
     My excitement of being free and independent was fresh lived as my nose inhaled an unpleasant, repulsive smell and as my ears shuddered at the sound of the hungry slobbering behind me.  My chief impulse was to run, but my inquisitiveness would not let me.  I forced my legs to turn around.  Ever my impulsive and inquisitive nature would get me into trouble; this was the first of many times.  I found myself facing a rather large, hairy, disgusting something.  Later I was to learn that it was called a dog.  Finally my impulsive nature kicked in; my quivering legs, aching with fear, took off.  Already I knew that my brother and sisters would be paralyzed with fear, and, heart bursting with sadness, I ran past them.  The urge to live was deep within me; I knew that I wanted to have life and learn more of this world.  Glancing back, my eyes informed me that the dog had already gobbled a few of my siblings, the others were screaming in terror and shock.  My eyes grew wide with fear at that scene of destruction and horror.  I still have nightmares about it to this very day.
    My legs told me that running would be more reasonable, so I dashed away, farther and farther from my family.  If I had had wings, I could not have fled more quickly.  Fear lent a hand; my legs barely touched the ground.  However, I knew the confrontation with the unattractive specimen of its breed was to come, and it came.  The dog panted up.  I quailed at the sight of a dog so large, and then I remembered my brothers and sisters.  I furiously gave him a scratch on the nose as he whimpered with pain and surprise at my fierce attack.  What are you doing?  I asked myself.  This dog is three times your size!  My logic overran my anger, and once again I ran.
     My feet took flight once more, but I knew that my swiftness could not last forever.  Just when my breath was in ragged sobs, my heart was pounding so loudly I thought the world could hear it, and when my legs had nearly given way, a pair of hands came as if from nowhere and lifted me off the ground.  I recognized the one who lifted me.  It was the strange creature who had left the hutch door open.  When the dog came, he shooed it away, saw the scratch on its nose, and looked at me with an expression of awe on his face.  However, I was too tired to do anything but sleep.
    Soon after that I was sold to a family.  Perhaps it would have been better for me if I had been taken care of by older children, but I was taken care of by young, fumbling children.  I knew they loved me, but I was tired of their careless treatment.  I ran from them constantly.
    Then the heat of summer came.  It was inexorable.  It seemed to have no end, and I suffered because of it.  Realizing my pitiful plight, they gave me to a family who lived in a cooler town.  My new home seemed like a dream come true.  I was loved.  I had a new owner, Annie.  She named me Juno.  I will live out a peaceful life here.  Whenever someone says to you that all things work together for good, they’re right.