Into the Wild

I realized yesterday Tiffany and I need to get out to the country a tad more than we do now.

We were hiking up a mountain outside the city (okay, fine, we were hiking around a big hill outside the city) when a rabbit bounced out of the bushes on one side of our trail and into the bushes on the other.

"What the f*ck!" Tiffany screamed, jumping back, nearly taking us both back down the steep incline we'd just come up.

"It's a rabbit," I said.

"I know it's a rabbit, but it's probably feral," Tiffany said.

"By definition," I agreed.

"No, I mean, it's probably..."

"An attack rabbit?"

"Yes! Exactly."

Later, she turned to take in a panoramic view of the city (okay, fine, the fog) we'd left behind and a hummingbird nearly speared her between the eyes with his beak, mistaking her bright pink tank-top, perhaps, for an unusually tall flower.

"Did you see that!?" she cried.

"Yes," I said, "that was close."

"He could have poked my eyes out!"

Even I was somewhat concerned, however, by the extremely large traps set off a few paces from the trail in various spots. They were big enough to hold 40 feral rabbits. But judging by the poops we encountered (some of which appeared to contain rabbit fur), the traps were meant for something with a slightly bigger intestinal tract.

In any case, Tiffany and I survived the rabbit, the hummingbird and the hike, with only minor cosmetic injuries to our running shoes (read: dirt).