no.74 - The Snow Bunny

This morning my daughter arrived at school without "New Bunny," her chosen cuddle toy for the day.

"Where's New Bunny?" I asked, seeing she did not have it. Her face a crinkled into a "I'm-not-going-to-cry" frown as she realized that she may have dropped bunny on our walk to school and that she might never see him again. This has happened before.

"I'll look for her on the way home," I said, hoping not to sound harsh, but we both knew the prospects were not good. New Bunny is off-white, the same color as the melting slush and snow, scattered in New Bunny-size patches between school and home.

I began the walk back, lamenting that I have little talent for spotting things and because of this, I went half-speed over the ice, the crunching sidewalk salt and the melting slush of snow.

Compounding my problem was the possibly that someone had found New Bunny and placed her up on a fence or rail or steps in order to be helpful. While I appreciate this effort and have done it myself for the lost toys of others, it still doubled the number of places I needed to look.

What I hate most about a task like this is that it is one of dwindling hope. While the odds are just as likely that New Bunny could be on our doorstep as ten feet from the school, each location I look removes another possibility that New Bunny will be found. By the time I arrived home, only two hopes remained.

One hope was that I failed to recognize New Bunny, the cream color of old snow, lying in old snow the color of gritty cream. She might be found later as her camouflage melted away. This hope is most troublesome, for it never ends but only becomes ever more unlikely. I still hold out a sliver of hope that I will find the Mad magazine I left in a Lum's Restaurant when I was seven. That precious old copy was purchased at great personal expense (two dollars) and was never found even though we returned within a few minutes, searched our booth, the counter, the kitchen and trash. (But that is a demon for another day.)

The second hope was that New Bunny had remained in our home, never having left her cozy place on our couch.

Fortunately, the later hope prevailed and New Bunny is safe and sound.

"New Bunny" derives her name from another bunny, also named "New Bunny," who belongs to a very good friend of my daughter who has two bunnies, one older than the other.