Mark (two doors down) was hounding Animal Control. Betsy (on the corner of the next block), happens to work the news room at one of the local papers and was calling me for the story to post on the paper's blog and also hung up signs. Gladys (tidy house on the corner) saw Joe (across the street from me) at Walmart and told him all about it. John (next door) was bummed. The woman trimming Elsie's yard suggested that the people caught him to eat him. I decided that she was not my friend or Slurpy's. But she is in the minority.
The guys at Gary's Gas Station (next door) said that recently they had sent the pound away. A call had been put in about a crazed rabbit. Gary and the guy from the pound stood over Slurpy in the parking lot and discussed the situation. Gary asked The Pounder, "I don't know, does that rabbit look like a problem to you?" Slurpy sat all balled up, enjoying the warm pavement. Gary went on, "He is harmless. He lives next door. We all like him. Leave him alone." The Pounder apparently agreed and went away. Had the Pounder come back?
Eventually, I went to post my "Lost" notice on Craigslist and read a "Found Rabbit" post. A woman (ahem, with a California area code) had picked Slurpy up to 'help' him. I wish she had knocked on some doors and asked before scooping him up. I guess it isn't as easy to overlook as a loose cat, but she would have learned, like I did, that Slurpy lives a great life here and has many fans. And they would have sent her to me. Which I was pleased as punch about.
When Ms. Helpful dropped him off, finally, Joe ran over and knocked on my studio door to make sure I knew. He had a note and tape in hand in case I wasn't home. (I love my neighborhood.)
Slurpy is losing his winter coat and he looks a bit mangy for it, especially in the rain. It also made him look grateful to be home again as he gobbled a handful of treats. I can't really tell. He hopped back to his routine pretty quick.
From what I learned, John hand-feeds him raw almonds at 5:30 every morning. He eats snacks under the blue spruce that the girls across the street leave for him. He naps under Gladys' weeping birch in the afternoons. Slurpy also gives the cats and squirrels that harass him a good spanking now and again so they mostly stear clear of him. And all that adventure is before he gets back to my house!
He spends most of the day here. And especially the nights, hunkered down in the middle of the grass in my back yard. When the college kids in the hood throw big parties, he stands in that spot, on his hind legs, his ears upright and separated at odd angles like TV antennae. He stands like that and listens, I guess. For hours. And I watch.
Anyway, the neighborhood is happy and relieved to have Slurpy back. There has been talk of having a party for him, but for now, I am satisfied with him roaming and following me around again.