There was a wild rabbit standing rigid, and creeping up on
it was what appeared to be a cat. Only it seemed rather bigger than a domestic
moggie, and it ducked when a jackdaw flew overhead. It was an unusual colour,
too – a pale shade of grey that I’ve never seen in a domestic cat. I went off
to fetch my binoculars, but when I returned, the rabbit was still there but the
cat had gone.
And then I saw a damn great buzzard on the school playing
field, which is where the rabbits are much given to frolicking. That’s bad news
for rabbits, especially if they’ve got babies. I think that being a
rabbit must be one of life’s riskier occupations.
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