The Fox, The Hare, and The Hound

The graying hare was an old fool, as most hares were at this age. After so many close calls with deaths, they tend to gather a cocky disposition of themselves and the world. He bounded out of the reach of sliths, panthers, and foxes with so much ease they no longer bothered to chase him. So he hopped around the forest, as giddy as a lamb on its born day.

One day, a vixen was watching him, not of hunger, but of curiosity. The fox had heard of this particular hare and wanted to see the fool for herself. She positioned herself on a cool rock near the winding river and waited. Overhead, she heard the call of a hawk. A young male fresh on the hunt. The fox spoke to the bird because birds and foxes have no qualms with each other.

The hawk landed on a low branch, “What are you waiting for, fox?”

“Waiting on the same thing you are, although I’m not in the mood to hunt,” the fox answered.

“Then you can watch me snatch that hare today. I feel it in my feathers. I’ll catch him.” The hawk flew up higher and positioned himself.

Soon enough the hare hopped through. He and the fox shared glances but said nothing to each other. The hare wasn’t scared of the fox nor any animal because he believed he was clever enough to evade them. Suddenly, the hawk flew down for its prey, but the hare flipped in the air, jumping over the hawk and tapping him on his head. He did this four times to the hawk before the bird flew off in a huff.

The hare danced around in victory, then turned to gloat at the fox, “Want a try, fox?”

The fox said, “I never cared for how your kind tastes. How long do you think that will work on him?”

“As long as it did for everyone else. An eternity. That’s why I have gray in my fur.”

The fox knew she shouldn’t bother, but she asked, “Have you ever thought of what would occur when he learns? Have you prepared for that moment?”

The fool hopped around the rock, taunting the fox, “Predators never learn. They just move onto slower prey.”

The fox crossed her paws and said, “If you say so.” She stayed in the area to see if her theory was correct. She watched day after day as the hare out jumped the hawk. The third day, the hawk was quiet. He didn’t attempt to hide anymore, waiting on a low branch.

The cocky hare bounded by again, tapping his feet together in a joyous hop. The hawk swooped down, beak aimed at the hare’s neck. The hare laughed, jumping up in the air. His laugh turned into a yelp when the hawk flipped its body in mid air just as the hare went to tap him on the head. The hawk caught the hare by the foot, then few off into the air. The fox watched predator and prey until they were a dot in the sky, wondering if the hare was thinking of her warning, not that it mattered now.