Rabbit on the Run handmade collage
I really messed up this time. Word around the hedge was that Mr. McGregor was gunning for me with a weed whacker.I had been warned a hundred times to stay out of his vegetable garden, but I did it all the same. Fortunately, Squirrel Nutkin told me that for a price, an old seafarer who lived at the edge of the village could fashion me a new identity. As Squirrel advised, I brought the old man a bottle of vermouth as an offering and soon he was at work. In no time, he returned from his worktable with a disguise that he placed beneath my nose and mouth. He held up a mirror for me to assess his handicraft. My transformation was uncanny and complete. Where once I saw a young mischievious bunny, a vaguely continental rabbit now stared back at me. I hopped off his worktable, thanked him and raced back to the hedge. Stopping at a puddle along the way, I looked at myself one more time. 'Remarkable,' I thought. Soon enough I would be rolling in cabbage again, free to frolick with impunity right under McGregor's nose.