PARSNIP, PETUNIA and POTATO gather around their great-great-great grandparent RHUBARB.
PARSNIP
Grandpa, why do we have food with the foxes every year? Aren’t you afraid?
RHUBARB
Oh, don’t tell me your parents haven’t told you the story of the fox hunt?
[The children shake their heads]
Well, I suppose there has to be something they leave for me to do. And I’m not likely to be getting carrots for the warren any time soon.
PARSNIP
What’s a fox hunt?
RHUBARB
I’m about to tell you if you sit down and listen. That’s right. Now long ago in the time of the monsters called men…
[shadow puppets act out the story as RHUBARB continues]
There were these games they would play. They would hunt. Not the way bears or spiders or foxes do today to survive, which for us is not ideal but is understandable, but for fun. They called it sport, but there was nothing sporting about chasing after a singular fox with dogs and horses and guns. It was a truly horrific affair from what the ancestors say.
Now, on fox hunts, most of our people would be safe because we would not look so good on a mantle as a grisly trophy as a fox, so contrary to most other days, we would relax and spend time in the sun, and generally be as carefree as a cat, only heading down to the safety of our warrens when the horses came so close that we might be trampled.
One unlucky fox caught for such a hunt stumbled upon a colony enjoying their day of peace and thought before the dogs caught their scent that we might hide them in our tunnels.
The leader of the colony originally scoffed.
“Why would we help you. You are our enemy and any other day you would attempt to kill us all.”
The fox, a young fox, barely older than a kit replied, “Today, I’m not the enemy. Today, I am but a rabbit being chased by rabid foxes with unquenchable thirst for blood and guns enough to kill me a thousand times over. If you hide me today, I cannot promise I won’t hunt you tomorrow, but you are safe while you harbor me.”
The leader, unconvinced was about to send the fox to their certain death, when the smallest bunny spoke. “I’ll share my hole with you for the duration of the hunt as long as I have your word me and mine will not be harmed. For, I know you eat our kind, but that is to continue living so you understand that we do as we do to continue living as well.”
And so, the fox hid, and the fox lived, and every hunt after that, the foxes would hide in the warrens and the rabbits would continue to have a day of peace. And as the monsters died off, the rabbits and foxes still continued the tradition, honoring the fellowship of all animals and sharing space without fear, one day a year.
[the puppet show ends]
POTATO
Men sound really scary.
RHUBARB
Yes, we are told they were. We have thousands of stories about their reign of terror and thousands more about when the world once again found peace, but that’s not a story for today. Go play with the kits little ones! Enjoy being young and full of energy and safe. We all have too few days like this and we must live them to the fullest while we can.
[the rabbits and the foxes play and eat and laugh until the sun goes down and then snuggled safe in their warrens the baby rabbits thank their stars they live in this world and not the world of centuries ago.]