The rabbit was in the backyard again sitting perfectly still. It was toward the far back of the yard and I knew Mom couldn't see it from the couch and, normally, I wouldn't ask her to get up just for a rabbit but she stood up on her own to go get a drink so I called her over to the lanai door/window.
"See that?" I asked.
"Oh, it's the bunny! Hello, Mr. Rabbit. Look how still he's sitting, not moving at all." Which was all accurate and true and pretty perceptive for someone as blind as she's getting to be. Except . . ..
She was facing the wrong direction. She was looking about 30 degrees to the right of where the rabbit actually was. So I stood behind her and looked over her head along her line of sight.
She was staring at a life-size white ceramic garden statue rabbit. Which she had made years and years ago.
When I pointed that out to her and showed her where the real (chocolate brown) rabbit was, she laughed and said it was a good thing I was there. In her defense, while she was looking the live rabbit didn't move any more than the sculpted one. (Although about ten minutes later I did see it nibbling at the lowest leaves of the lemon tree.)
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