Is it bedtime?

The rabbit comes out of its hole and, while it’s circling the stump, a 4-foot swell crashes into the bow. The rabbit pulls itself up and leaves the hole again, but now it’s rattled. Hours practicing on that piece of wood with two ropes last night while Dad was in the bar hitting on that tollbooth operator and still the rabbit freezes up when the pressure’s on. It’s like Little League all over again. The yelling doesn’t help, either. The rabbit sees the rocks, and, I assure you, the rabbit’s trying to take its head out of its ass. You know what? I’ll just hold it. Yeah. In my hands. For the rest of the trip. Whatever. The rabbit’s plenty mature. You’re just pissed you’ll have to mix your own drinks.

Brings back some memories. Not of crashing waves, but of analogous rabbits. One of seven Bowline variations.