The Wuff with the Smooth: Ziiiik! The Call of the Wild

Waffle is currently enjoying a running battle with a big hare which visits our house – which is kinda ironic, seeing as how the hare is more likely to eat the hound, rather than the other way round. It’s great to watch though.

These chases have taken place from time to time across previous chapters of Waffle’s life but over these past few weeks, they have become a regular occurrence. It’s almost as if the hare has decided to take the hand outta Waffle and Waffle hasn’t yet realised.

I see him most often in the early morning, this big Irish hare, regal and proud of bearing. Lepus timidus hibernicus appears to enjoy an early start, stepping around outside my house as if he owns the place – which, I suppose, he does. He’ll come loping into the drive, stopping every now and again to sniff the air, those immense eyes of his taking in every leaf, flower and blade of grass in his own personal kingdom. He never hurries, never stresses, never makes a sound. I am always surprised at his size too; eating my toast or feeding the hens on merely standing outside drinking in the morning, I always feel a little excited when Big Hare (as I have come to call him) lopes along.

If you were used to seeing rabbits you’d say, “Jaysus, that’s a wile big brute of a rabbit. I wouldn’t like to meet him on a dark night.”

The reality is I wouldn’t want to meet this guy on a dark night, even if he’s normal-sized as hares go. He has these enormous, knowing eyes, blazing with an intense sort of glare and you just know he could put the voodoo on you, iffin he wanted.

And yet, Big Hare remains aloof at all times as though it is I imposing on his kingdom and not the other way round.

Enter the Waff.

If me and the Waff are outside, it’s a done deal. The hound will sense the hare as soon as he appears and then it’s every hairy being for themselves, although these chases are usually brief and uncomplicated. Waffle hasn’t captured the concept of cornering the hare, so if he appears at the gate on the drive, it’s a straight drag race up the hill on the open road.

However, if we’re in the house and the hare wanders into the corner of the garden or better still, lopes around in the back yard, Waffle can then at least put on a show. As he’s usually snoozing when the hare comes calling, I wait until the right moment, then I’ll move to the back door, open it as silently as possible and I’ll blow through my teeth – ‘ziiiik’ – which is Waffle’s signal that an intruder is present and he must spring into action.

The Waff has had plenty of practice over the years, chasing deer out of the garden but the hare is a different type of gravy.

“Ziiiik!” And he erupts from the backdoor as if fired from a canon.

Sometimes, it takes a moment for him to lock onto the hare but when he does, the chase is on.

Even writing this now, I’m laughing because there is something farcically comical about Waffle chasing this quarry.

Whatever form the pursuit takes, Big Hare merely increases the pace of his loping, jogging almost, to stay just out of reach of the hairy fiend. If I didn’t know any better I’d say he’s even toying with the hound.

For his part, the hairy fiend is motoring as fast as his stunted little legs will take him – and whilst he’s no slouch at the best of times, the Waff is vastly outclassed in these matters. It’s like a tumbleweed chasing a jet.

But, God love him, Waffle never gives up and whether it’s a straight chase or with zigzagging back and forth across the back garden, the hare always gets away and Waffle always loses. Undaunted however, Waffle will come a-panting back to the house with his head held high, as though he is the victor and the intruder has been vanquished, never to return again – until tomorrow of course.

While the chase always ends the same way, the story – for me at least – never gets old.