JOY ALONG THE WAY; SCORING ANOTHER NEW AND COLLECTIBLE SIGHT

Always on the lookout for new and unusual sights, I was treated to one last week. A full-grown rabbit came hopping purposely across the yard. It made two or three stop-look-and-listen breaks in its journey toward what must have been the destination point in its mind.

Such stops are essential for the rabbit's longevity. Their alert ears, extended in the familiar V, seem to eternally say, "I come in peace." But there is other planetary life that doesn't respond likewise to the peace sign. Some use guns. Others use hoes, rakes or shovels to discourage Rabbit from feasting in the garden.

Encountering none of these hazards, the oncoming rabbit reached its destination safely, that being a semi-bare, dusty place in the yard. To my amazement it lay down in this spot, stretched itself full length, turned over on one side and began to wallow in the dust. Its muscle-driven four paws clawed at the air as if trying to achieve a full turnover on its back. I strained a bit with Rabbit just as I had long ago when any of our horses or mules strove to do this.

We had seven or eight horses and mules at any given time and so far as I know, only two of them, old gray Ned and glistening roan Russell, could achieve this.

I watched to see if Rabbit always turned from right to left as did the horses when they were maneuvering the wallow which led me to wonder if all wallowing animals were right footed or pawed.

Did anyone ever turn away his gaze when he saw a horse beginning to wallow? It is a somewhat funny sight seeing his great muscled animal, lying on its back, kicking its feet into the air as if having some kind of tantrum. You count the attempts, one, two, three, four. If, after the fourth attempt, the horse hasn't made it, it gives up the attempt, gets up and goes on about its business, shaking his mane and tail to rid the dust. If it makes the full turnover, its hairy skin ripples here and there as if in indescribable pride of achievement.

My wallowing rabbit arises from his dust bed, rapidly paws at it as if to make it deeper and wider. It is late afternoon and the slanting rays of the sun mingle with the dust particles making a little golden cloud.

Rabbit tries again and again to make the full turnover but seems content to just get up and lie down again on the side that hasn't received the full dust treatment.

Something there is in that wallowing that makes Rabbit feel good. Is it the scratching of itching skin? The suffocation of body fleas, lice, mites? Rabbit gets up, shakes itself, erects that peace sign and lopes off, a new zip in its hop. I put my observation into a little compartment of my brain labeled "Collection of Collectible Sights."

REJOICE!

Jean Bell Mosley is an author and longtime resident of Cape Girardeau.