Today’s guest post comes from Jacque.
As I child I loved the Beatrix Potter book Peter Rabbit. I loved the story; I loved Mama Rabbit’s warning to stay away from Farmer MacGregor’s garden; I loved adventurous, naughty Peter with his snow white tail; I loved the drawings; I loved sitting on Dad’s lap listening to his low voice recite the book one more time.
Farmer MacGregor, the anti-hero wearing overalls and carrying the fearsome pitchfork, was the recipient of all my fear and scorn.
He was mean.
He was Peter’s enemy.
He did not understand Peter at all.
Soon thereafter, Bunny Rabbit on Captain Kangaroo appeared, tormenting Mr. Moose with his rainstorm of ping pong balls. I thought that was so funny. Bunny Rabbit was my secret friend. Mr. Moose was a perfect foil who just never caught on to Bunny’s smart tricks.
Later in childhood Bugs Bunny arrived, carrot in hand, ready to torment Elmer Fudd. “What’s Up, Doc?” Elmer Fudd was just such a Fuddy-Duddy, never smart enough to out smart Bugs. I loved Bugs.
As a child I was on the side of the Rabbit, wherever the rabbit appeared.
Well, not anymore. I am now Mr. Moose, Farmer MacGregor, and Elmer Fudd all in one.
My vegetable/flower garden in fenced in, the flowers in the flower garden carefully protected, all to prevent rabbit carnage. Despite all this the rabbits chewed away a coneflower this spring. They almost destroyed a yellow button flower that came over the prairies on the covered wagons with my ancestors, as well as a coral bells. These are all hardy perennial plants which are nearly impossible to destroy, and these wascally wabbits nearly got them all.
Last year we witnessed a genius baby rabbit who learned how to traverse the rabbit fence around the vegetable garden. Lou and I stood there watching as the baby bunny scaled the rabbit fence straight up to a hole large enough to allow him/her through, then slithered into the garden. We then knew exactly who devoured the seedling radishes, beets, carrots, and kohrabi. After opening the gate, I charged into the garden, startling the bunny who then left the enclosure the same way he or she entered.
A tiny 5 pound critter reduced me to rage and blind frustration. My perspective shifted and the souls of Mr. Moose, Farmer MacGregor, and Elmer Fudd entered my being. I yelled “What’s Up Bunny?” at the departing tail.
What has caused you to experience a shift in your perspective on an issue?