Today I offer you the simple tale of the Dublin Bunny. I could tell you his tale and make it sound lovely and sweet, but every tale of a horned hare must contain an element of things that are not so sweet and lovely.
A horned hare? Why, yes! You may be more comfortable with the word Jackalope. Either way, he is a bunny who lives in the bramble at the edge of the wood. He has no family to speak of. His ears are tall and allow him to hear your dreams as you sleep. They float through the air and become caught in his giant ears!
Dublin was a dream himself had by an artist in her studio one late late night. She dreamed of a battle bunny to protect her wee children as she sent them out into the world. Something soft, yet fierce. In the morning, in the light of her studio, sat a Jackalope. She called him Dublin and gave him a kiss atop of his brown fluffed head.
He sits at the edge of the bramble and waits for the wee ones to go, and he follows. Not everyone can see him all of the time. On one particular occasion, the wee ones went to the play park. New place, new children, all new…. As Dublin rounded the corner to the park he saw a boy knock one of the wee ones down. Without a second of haste, he hopped to the boy and gored him in the leg with his tiny horns.
When a mother sets a wish adrift for her children… something happens. Something soft, yet fierce.