Mr Dog and the Rabbit Habit

by Ben Fogle

  First published in Great Britain by

  HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2019

  HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,

  HarperCollins Publishers

  1 London Bridge Street

  London SE1 9GF

  The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

  Text copyright © Ben Fogle 2019

  Illustrations © Nikolas Ilic 2019

  Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2019

  Ben Fogle and Nikolas Ilic assert the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of the work respectively.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

  Source ISBN: 9780008306366

  Ebook Edition © 2019 ISBN: 9780008306373

  Version: 2019-02-09

  To Ludo and Iona.

  A life of love and respect for all

  animals great and small.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Map

  Chapter One: Mr Dog and Mother Rabbit

  Chapter Two: White Rabbit

  Chapter Three: The Story of Socks

  Chapter Four: Digging Deep

  Chapter Five: Under the Fence

  Chapter Six: The Black Cat

  Chapter Seven: Trapped!

  Chapter Eight: The Search

  Chapter Nine: Rabbit Treasure

  Chapter Ten: New Beginnings

  Notes from the Author

  About the Author

  About the Publisher

  Map

  Chapter One

  MR DOG AND MOTHER RABBIT

  The rabbit was running as fast as she could. The dog was gaining on her. Her fluffy white tail bobbed about as she darted left and right, trying to give him the slip. But the dog was too fast.

  The rabbit rolled over on to her back as a long furry snout loomed above her …

  ‘Tag! You’re it!’ The dog nudged the bunny’s belly with his nose and snorted. ‘Now it’s your turn to catch me – if you can!’

  ‘Wait!’ snuffled the rabbit. ‘I’m all puffed out.’

  ‘Very well. I shall wait.’ The dog sat down for three seconds, then jumped straight up again, panting. ‘There! Ready to play now?’

  The rabbit thumped a hind leg in excitement. Most dogs she’d met were scary and chased you because they wanted to get you. This dog was different.

  He was a scruffy, scraggy mutt, his coat black except for his white nose and front paws. In place of a collar he had a red and white hanky tied round his neck. His long tail swished all about, busy as a broom, and his shaggy eyebrows were full of expression.

  ‘What’s your name?’ asked the curious rabbit.

  ‘Mr Dog,’ the dog replied. ‘What’s yours?’

  ‘Mother Rabbit.’ She paused, whiskers twitching. ‘If you don’t mind me saying so, Mr Dog is a funny name.’

  ‘No, no, no. Figgy-Jig is a funny name.’ Mr Dog danced a small jig on his hind legs. ‘Bafflehonk, Wiggy and Dumpy-Drawers are all funny names. But Mr Dog is … elegant.’ He bowed his head. ‘Rather like myself!’

  ‘Did your owners name you Mr Dog?’

  ‘Owners?’ Mr Dog’s eyes widened. ‘I don’t have owners. I’ve had a few pet humans, if that’s what you mean. But I prefer the travelling life. Right now I’m staying in a garden.’ He licked his nose. ‘Perfectly nice woman who lives in the house, but she will insist on throwing away perfectly good balls, however many times I take them back.’

  ‘Well, I’ve never gone further than this field,’ Mother Rabbit admitted. ‘I was born here, and so were my own bunnies. They’re sleeping in their nest right now.’ She got up and stretched. ‘I have to wait until dusk before I go back to feed them. I’d hate to lead something hungry and horrible there.’

  ‘Quite right.’ Mr Dog snuffled at her. ‘So … another game of tag, then?’

  ‘No, thank you.’ Mother Rabbit wrinkled her nose. ‘I need my strength to mind my little ones. I’m hungry – and my nose smells fresh carrots!’

  ‘Carrots?’ Mr Dog looked around. There was only grass in the big field for as far as he could see … grass that was surrounded by two big green hedges and one solid wooden fence. Beyond the fence, Mr Dog could just see the tops of some tents and caravans. ‘There aren’t any carrots growing around here, Mother Rabbit. But maybe there are humans eating carrots behind that fence?’

  ‘The Big New Fence, you mean? Goodness knows what happens behind there.’ Mother Rabbit’s ears waggled and she shook her head. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr Dog, my nose is extra-clever when it comes to carrots. I can smell them … this way!’ And off she hopped towards the nearest hedgerow.

  Mr Dog watched her go. ‘Ah well,’ he said. ‘There are loads of other rabbits here. Maybe one or two of them would like to play?’

  But the next moment his ragged ears pricked straight up at a squeak of dismay from the hedgerow. It was Mother Rabbit, he realised, and ran off to investigate.

  Soon he saw what Mother Rabbit had not – there was a trap hidden in the long grass. As she’d run inside it to get the carrot she must have knocked a stick holding the trap door up. Now it had snapped down, and she was caught inside.

  ‘Help!’ Mother Rabbit was hopping about anxiously. ‘I can’t get out! What is this thing?’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s a rabbit trap.’ Mr Dog pushed his muzzle up against the catch on the door, but it was on a steel spring and wouldn’t open. He batted at it with both paws, but soon his tail drooped. ‘It’s no good. I can’t get you out!’

  ‘Oh no.’ Mother Rabbit looked at Mr Dog with wide eyes.

  ‘So many bunnies have gone missing from these fields ever since the Big New Fence went up. I thought they’d just hopped away. They must have been caught, like me!’

  ‘But why?’ Mr Dog felt sad. ‘What harm can rabbits be doing running around and burrowing in a field?’

  ‘I just don’t know.’ Mother Rabbit shook her head. ‘Oh, Mr Dog! What about my poor little bunnies, asleep in our burrow? They’re only two weeks old! What will become of them if I never come back?’

  Mr Dog knew the answer, and it wasn’t good. ‘You will come back. There must be a way to open this rotten thing … He closed his jaws round the wire of the trap door and rattled it. ‘Come on, come on …’

  ‘Oi, dog! Get away from that rabbit!’

  Busily trying to force open the cage, Mr Dog hadn’t noticed a young man with dark hair and muddy clothes close by. ‘Where did you come from?’ he woofed in surprise.

  Of course, the man didn’t understand him. He just picked up the trap with Mother Rabbit in it and turned away.

  ‘Dear me, what shocking manners you have.’ Mr Dog grabbed the leg of the man’s jeans in his jaws and tugged very hard. ‘Mmm, but what tasty trousers!’

  ‘Hey, get off – WHOA!’ The man tried to pull away but overbalanced and fell to his knees. He put down the trap. ‘Silly dog!’

  ‘Close, but my first name is Mister, thank you very much!’ Mr Dog scrabbled agai
n at the door to the trap, trying desperately to pull it open.

  ‘Mr Dog!’ Mother Rabbit spoke quickly. ‘You can’t help me, but please help my little ones. If you find another mother rabbit with a litter like me, perhaps she’ll take them in? Follow the Big New Fence towards the road,’ she went on. ‘You’ll find our burrow there.’

  ‘I promise I’ll help.’ Mr Dog looked into her dark and frightened eyes. ‘I’ll get you out. You’ll see.’

  By now the man had got back to his feet and was glaring down at Mr Dog. He reached for the spotted hanky round Mr Dog’s neck. ‘Aha, no collar on you – just a neckerchief – which means that you probably don’t have an owner. And if you don’t have an owner, then it’s the dog pound for you …’

  The man’s fingers seized hold of the fabric. Now Mr Dog was trapped too!

  Chapter Two

  WHITE RABBIT

  ‘Unhand me, sir!’

  Mr Dog barked.

  Desperately he turned in a tight circle to break the man’s grip on his neckerchief and then sprang backwards. The man reached out to try to catch him, but Mr Dog ran away as fast as a racehorse – if not slightly faster.

  ‘I’ll be back!’ Mr Dog panted. ‘Keep your furry chin up, Mother Rabbit!’ He looked over his shoulder and was pleased to see that the man wasn’t following him. Even so, Mr Dog kept running. I can’t take any chances, he thought. If anything happens to me now, I’ll never reach those poor bunnies …

  Suddenly, something in the ground sprayed jets of cold water all round, splashing him all over. ‘UGH!’ Mr Dog was soaked in a second, and quickly changed direction, running for shelter in the nearest long grass. ‘Whatever was that?’

  As he looked back, Mr Dog saw that the powerful spray had sent some rabbits running away too. He realised he’d seen something like it before in a garden he’d stayed in. ‘Must be a sprinkler that goes off to scare any animal that comes near.’ He licked his nose, still panting for breath. ‘But who would leave such a thing out here?’

  Peering through the tall grass, Mr Dog saw a long hosepipe snaking from the water sprinkler. It stretched all the way to the Big New Fence. Across the field, the man from before was walking towards the fence with the trap containing Mother Rabbit in his arms.

  A door swung open in the fence and both man and trap went through it.

  ‘Most mysterious,’ mused Mr Dog. ‘Whoever’s behind the Big New Fence, it seems they really don’t like rabbits. But why?’ He got to his feet. ‘Well, I’ll just have to find out. I wonder if there’s a sneaky hound-shaped back way in …?’

  But as Mr Dog began trotting across the field towards the fence – being careful to avoid the water sprinkler – he spotted something that surprised him. (And Mr Dog was surprisingly hard to surprise.)

  Sitting by the corner of the fence in the field was a rabbit who looked very different from all the other rabbits he’d ever met in the wild. It was bigger, white and fluffy, with enormous lop ears.

  ‘That’s an angora rabbit. A pet rabbit!’

  Confused, Mr Dog scratched the side of his head with his back leg. Whatever was a pet rabbit doing out here? Perhaps, he thought, it belongs to someone who lives behind the Big New Fence? He jumped up in sudden excitement. ‘If the rabbit’s found a way out, perhaps I can use it as a way in – and reach Mother Rabbit!’ Mr Dog stood up on his back legs and waved his paws.’ Hey, you – white and fluffy! Over here!’

  At the sight of Mr Dog, the big white rabbit turned and bolted away.

  ‘Wait!’ Mr Dog barked. ‘I only want to talk to you!’

  He ran after the big rabbit, but by the time he’d reached the corner of the fence it had vanished from sight. Mr Dog knew that there was a rabbit warren full of tunnels in the long grass. Perhaps one of the holes led under the fence to whatever was on the other side?

  Or perhaps it might go to Mother Rabbit’s little bunnies! Mr Dog remembered that she didn’t want to lead predators to her tiny ones, and so wouldn’t return until dusk.

  ‘I shall stand a stick in front of every rabbit hole,’ Mr Dog decided, ‘then I’ll come back at sunset. If the stick’s been knocked aside, I’ll know a mummy bunny has called by. If the stick is still standing there, it means no one’s been in or out. That hole might lead to Mother Rabbit’s home … and have hungry little ones inside!’

  Mr Dog fetched several sticks and placed one outside every rabbit hole he could see. Then he left the field and went back to his adopted garden.

  When he returned at sundown with a belly full of food – a fitting reward, he felt, for all the balls he’d had to chase and fetch – Mr Dog surveyed the burrows in the gathering dark. All of the sticks he’d placed at the entrance to the rabbit holes had been pushed aside – except one.

  Mr Dog felt a pang of sadness at the thought of what he had to tell the little bunnies within. He crossed over to that particular hole in the grass and pushed his head inside. ‘Hello?’ he called. ‘Anyone home?’ His ears were folded down over his head, but still Mr Dog could hear little whimpers and shivering bodies. He blinked, his keen eyes growing accustomed to the dark. ‘I’m terribly sorry, but your mother has had to, er, go away for a bit. I’m here to help you find a new place to stay.’

  ‘Mama’s gone?’ came a quiet high-pitched voice.

  ‘Mama’s left us?’ came another.

  ‘She didn’t want to go.’ Mr Dog’s heart felt as heavy as an elephant. ‘Don’t worry. I’m going to do my very best to get you all back together again.’

  A third voice came out of the darkness. ‘But why would a dog help a rabbit?’ It sounded deeper than the first two. ‘Dogs hunt rabbits. Dogs eat rabbits.’

  ‘Well, Mr Dog doesn’t!’ growled Mr Dog indignantly.

  ‘Mr Dog? Why should we trust you?’

  ‘Because D-O-G is the first part of DO GOOD – and that’s this mutt’s motto!’ He grinned. ‘I’m going to pull my head out of your home now, and wait for you all to come and join me.’

  Mr Dog carefully wriggled free and checked to make sure that there weren’t any dangers about. There were lots of other rabbits in the fields, some watching him warily, so he gave them his cheeriest smile. He wondered if any would be willing to make space for a couple more bunnies in their burrows.

  He waited for several minutes and eventually a very small rabbit, barely bigger than a tennis ball, crawled cautiously from the burrow. She was brown with tiny ears and big black eyes. Behind her came another small brown bunny, a boy, smaller than his sister and sleepier too. A second girl soon followed, the smallest of all. The siblings sat side by side, looking up at Mr Dog.

  ‘Are you sure you won’t eat us?’ whimpered the tiny girl bunny.

  ‘Certain,’ said Mr Dog.

  The bunny’s big sister turned back to the burrow. ‘It’s all right,’ she squeaked, ‘we haven’t been eaten. You can come out too.’

  Another rabbit emerged from behind the brother and sister. Only this one was easily twice their size with white fur, floppy ears and a pink twitching nose.

  Mr Dog’s eyes grew wider. ‘That angora rabbit I saw – it’s you!’

  Chapter Three

  THE STORY OF SOCKS

  ‘Angora? What are you talking about?’ The white rabbit shook his head. ‘I’m just a regular wild rabbit like, er, my brother and sisters here.’

  Mr Dog’s shaggy eyebrows shot up into the air. ‘Your brother and sisters?’ he spluttered. ‘You can’t fool me!’

  ‘It’s true, mister.’ The littlest girl bunny wiggled her tail. ‘He’s been in our burrow for as long as I can remember.’

  ‘And how long is that?’

  ‘Since yesterday,’ squeaked the little boy bunny.

  ‘Day before yesterday,’ said the elder girl bunny proudly.

  The white rabbit whimpered. ‘See? Proof positive that we all have the same mum. Now, where is she? We little babies can’t look after ourselves, you know.’

  ‘Babies?’ Mr Dog boggled. This rabbit
was big – at least two years old. What was he up to? ‘Do you think we might have a talk in private, Mr …?’

  ‘Socks,’ squeaked the Angora. ‘My name is Socks. All right, then, Mr Dog. A private word. But just quickly.’ He turned to the baby bunnies. ‘Hop back inside your burrow. I’ll join you in a minute.’

  ‘Okay, Socks.’ The bunnies hopped inside.

  Mr Dog lay down beside the Angora rabbit so that they were eye to eye. ‘So, tell me, Socks,’ he said. ‘Why are you pretending that you belong with these wild rabbits?’

  ‘But I do belong with them!’ Socks began. ‘I know I look larger than them, but I’m just big boned—’

  ‘Come off it, Socks!’ Mr Dog shook his head sternly. ‘Admit it. You’re not a wild rabbit – you’re a pet!’

  ‘No, no, I …’ His whiskers drooped and he sighed. ‘Oh, all right, it’s true. I am.’ He looked up sadly at Mr Dog. ‘What gave me away?’

  Mr Dog cocked his head to one side, considering. ‘Oooh, not much. Apart from just about everything. What are you up to? I thought perhaps you came from the other side of the Big New Fence.’

  ‘Oh no,’ Socks said quickly. ‘I come from a hutch inside a house with a nice garden. I’m not sure where it is. But my owners broughtme out here a few days ago … and turned me loose.’

  ‘What?’ Mr Dog’s ears stood up straight. ‘How could they do such a thing? A pet can’t survive in the wild!’

  ‘I’m sure they didn’t mean to leave me.’ Socks washed his whiskers. ‘I think they were probably just letting me have a bit of a run around. But then they just got back into the car and … well, I suppose they forgot that they hadn’t picked me up. They drove away without me.’ He smiled bravely. ‘They’ll be back, though! I watch the road each day waiting for their car. It was red, I think. Or green …’

  Mr Dog looked sadly at the deflated rabbit. He knew that unwanted pet rabbits were sometimes released into the wild. The human owners thought they were doing a nice thing – but they weren’t.