Boris and Bailey
Copywright 2010 Cherokee Randolph
When things began happening to Boris he wasn’t even named Boris. He didn’t have a name. At least nobody knew yet that his name was Boris.
Boris’ mother didn’t use names for her children. She didn’t think in words. She didn’t think in numbers either, so she didn’t know that she had five baby rabbits. But all the same she knew how many there were. And she knew each one of them very well indeed and was very careful to see that all of them were safe and all of them were fed.
Boris was the brave one. He was a lot braver than his mother thought he should be. He was the first to hop out from the hole behind the tree root where they had all been born, the first to open his eyes and see the sun, the first to nibble on a tender green leaf. And of course, he was the first one to go on an adventure by himself.
His first few adventures were very exciting, but they didn’t end all that badly. He hopped around pretty close to home, tried all sorts of new tastes, smelled the whole world all at once and then learned slowly to separate the smells. He watched a bird take off in flight from a low branch and tried to do the same thing, but all he could manage was a hop. He was a very curious little rabbit, but he was a good little rabbit too and he didn’t go much farther than his mother wanted him to go.