I have walked around the village quite a lot over the past two and a half years. My laps get longer in the summer, and cleave closer to the village core in winter, especially during the week.
But, as a result, the village is very familiar, and anything unusual tends to catch my attention. I ought to be our Neighbourhood Watch co-ordinator, I guess.
This evening, my evening constitutional was delayed somewhat by the England game - and wasn’t that a nerve-shredding affair? - so the light was beginning to fade as I wandered down Pound Road towards the bridge over the A14. And then I noticed something black, sitting on the gravel outside 7 Peterhouse. It wasn’t very big, but it seemed out of place.
Suddenly, it moved, and to my surprise, a small rabbit was heading onto the road towards me. It stopped in front of me, and clearly wasn’t a wild one. So, I scooped it up.
I knocked on the door of number 7, small, cute rabbit held tightly against my chest. It wasn’t theirs. But I had someone to help, as we knocked on doors to see if anyone had lost a rabbit. At number 11, we had our first lead, and I headed down the street. And yes, a rabbit had been lost, the rabbit in my arms.
I handed it over to a happy owner.
Job done.
It’s never dull in Creeting St Peter...
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