Kidnapped: a hare-raising tail

   I am, by nature, a writer of letters and have corresponded with people around the world. No matter which continent is your home, if I have your postal information, chances are you have received a letter from me. Next to travel, letters are probably the best way to experience other cultures. I am also privileged to have among my contacts, a canine correspondent: inter-species communication has opened a new world.
   On Monday, 20 April, 2020, a chocolate bunny was placed in custody of a postal department in the mid-west; headed for a small town in Michigan. My doggy pal and I stayed in touch via Facebook messenger, so he could keep me apprised of progress. Andy figured a rabbit would travel speedily but, almost as a caveat, expressed a hope that bunny would survive the trip. We never could have imagined an outcome like the one which unfolded.
   On Shakespeare's [accepted] birthday, Andy asked if bunny had made his appearance but I told him no. He thought that was terrible but I told him I hadn't yet despaired. Two days later, Andy told me his human was quite upset with the situation and would make inquiries at their local post office.
   Nearing end of first week, Andy said he could have driven it here faster himself but, with stay at home orders, he had entrusted transport to USPS. By Saturday, 26 April,  friend bunny was alleged to be in Champaign, Illinois. In "normal" circumstances I might have expected his arrival within a couple of days. But during the COVID-19 pandemic, east-west mail has taken substantially longer than it had previously. Optimistically, given rabbits' reputation, Andy opined wouldn't it be wonderful if there were babies, by the time bunny arrived.
   On Monday, 27 April, Andy dejectedly informed me he didn't think I would see bunny that day either, though tracking had been checked and he was moving. A day later, Andy said they were not optimistic and feared someone had eaten bunny. I interjected that I certainly hoped not, since I was looking forward to that pleasure myself. He then showed me a picture of the first rabbit he'd considered sending, except it had begun to "bloom:" turn white; so he'd purchased a new one. Hoping to divert my friend from his dolor, I adopted an upbeat position and said I was sure bunny would arrive before the week was out. But Andy was not so easily dissuaded and said it was only a lie that bunny had left Champaign. I convinced him to cut USPS some slack, as many workers had been affected by the pandemic. Later, he was suspicious because, although his human had received notification that bunny was in transit, he was never given specifics about location. Within the hour, Andy wondered if bunny had melted. (Canine prescience?) I said if that happened, hopefully bunny's remains would be given to me, for respectful disposal.
   By Thursday, we had reached the conclusion bunny had been kidnapped: that would explain not only delay of arrival but the ambiguity surrounding bunny's precise whereabouts. Using his own distraction techniques, Andy asked, other than bunnies, what was my favorite food? I told him tacos; but they probably wouldn't travel well. He made other suggestions: cookies; mints; vodka? Then he confessed that, as a dog, he had no experience with vodka but he had heard some humans say it was good. How about apples? Apples were quickly eliminated from consideration, as they would likely bruise and/or spoil, in transit.
   On Friday, Andy had big news: bunny had been kidnapped but had escaped. He was presently in Detroit and would try to make his way to Tecumseh, Saturday. Andy told me it sounded as though bunny's abductors had beaten him pretty badly, so I had best prepare myself to deal with his injuries. Early Saturday morning, Andy sent a message that bunny was on a truck, headed for Tecumseh. Andy was greatly relieved, having figured bunny was a goner.
   I was late going online Saturday, having gone around the apartment complex, serenading the residents. Not having a response by 3:00 that afternoon, Andy had begun to fear bunny had been followed after his escape and now I had been kidnapped too.
   Once I got Andy's frantic message, I hastened to assure him I was fine. However, bunny's outer wrapper informed me he'd been "Received in Damaged Condition," which I was sure had resulted from his abduction. Andy wanted to know how bad bunny's injuries were; could I tell he was even a bunny; and could I still eat him? I took a picture of bunny's mutilated and melted corpus delecti. Andy asked if there were also a letter in the package. I took a picture of my gloved hand holding a page from a yellow legal pad, with brown spots. I explained I had first taken the marks for drops of dried blood and had worn gloves, thinking  it a ransom note, in which case, I would have turned it over to investigative authorities.
   Twenty-four hours after bunny showed up in my mailbox, I decided to submit his narrative - harrowing as it was, to cyberspace. On the night of his arrival, I poured myself a glass of wine and spent nearly an hour: gently cleaning bunny; licking dried chocolate, slowly and carefully peeling foil wrapper from bunny's mangled body. As I tended his wounds, bunny rambled - nearly incoherently (or maybe it was the wine).
   Yes, he had been kidnapped. But all those days when his precise location was not known, one wonders if he were in Belgium. The greatest argument against that presumption, of course, is that international flights are down considerably, at this time. Yes, bunny was no ordinary herbivore; he was four ounces of Godiva chocolate and Godiva was established in Belgium in 1926. As I understood it, after he'd made his escape he had set off, ostensibly on his way to me. Needless to say, he was disoriented and no doubt babbling. The first passerby bunny encountered did not understand him but could make out the word "Belgium" across his tummy, so tried to send bunny to his presumed homeland.
   We may never know if bunny's injuries were inflicted by his kidnappers, or the well-meaning - and apparently very strong, stranger who may have been a mite insistent that bunny take off for Belgium, instead of Tecumseh. Thankfully, bunny is here now; and he is delicious.