One of my favorite things about this time of year is bunnies.

If I didn’t have a dog — a herding dog — I’d raise bunnies, lots of bunnies.

I love the way their little noses twitch and how oh-so-still they sit when they sense danger nearby. Maybe they think they’re invisible if they don’t move, but they haven’t got my dog fooled!

I’m thinking in particular about three special bunnies I’ve come into close contact with:

1) A tiny, jet-black bunny I picked up and cuddled in a petting zoo once. His little heart hammered like it would jump right out of his chest, but I just wanted to take him home!

2) A HUGE white bunny owned by one of my son’s friends. This one was the size of a small dog and would even let you pet him!

3) A “teenaged” bunny, much like the one in this picture.

In case you can’t find him, he’s sitting beside the sidewalk eating grass. I couldn’t get any closer, for fear he’d hop away.

Anyway, a bunny much like the photo-bunny managed to get tangled up in some fishing nets my dad had off our back porch one rainy Sunday afternoon several years ago.

Daddy said the bunny would work himself free and cautioned me he might be “sick,” but I didn’t listen. I ran to get a pair of scissors.

“Are you going to help, or do I have to do this by myself?” I demanded.

Daddy picked up the “prisoner,” who watched us warily. The poor thing seemed to know we were trying to help, for he stopped struggling against the netting and froze. I looked at his bleeding leg and felt tears come to my eyes.

Working fast, I snipped his little feet free. We set him down, and off he scampered!

It was a good feeling.

Since then, I’ve often wondered whether the bunny we saved ever returns to our yard, whether he (or she) had baby bunnies, and whether he remembers our setting him free.

I like to think he probably does!