©2010 Jennifer D. Porter

FOUR — AN ENORMOUS FAVOR

Jack had never rescued a baby bunny from a big brown dog before, so he wasn’t very good at it, at first. He scampered through the grass, his tail straight out behind him and across the Wilder’s blacktop driveway. He bounded up the stone wall that circled the flower garden in the center of the driveway then dropped down inside his hole. He never checked to see if Rue was right behind him.

Safe inside his burrow, Jack tried to slow his heartbeat with easy breaths of air. He rubbed each of his shoulders against the black, fertile dirt wall of his den then shook off and began grooming himself. “Well, that was a close call, little fellow.”

Only Rue didn’t answer. Rue didn’t make any noise at all. Jack whipped around.

Rue wasn’t there!                                          

“Oh, no!” said Jack.                                              

He scurried out of his burrow and onto the stone wall. Rue wasn’t in the yard, but Sugar was near the picket fence, in front of a bush. She had her nose and front legs flat against the ground and her tail wagged high in the air.

“Bark, bark, bark!” she said.

Sugar had Rue trapped against the fence! It was all a big game to that rascal, that devil of a dog, chasing the little animals and scaring them to death.

There was no telling when Mrs. Wilder would call Sugar back in. There was no telling what would happen if Sugar got her mouth on Rue.

“I must think quickly,” Jack said. “And act even quicker.” He scratched the fur between his ears. “Think quickly. Think quickly.” His entire body told him to run back inside his hole. “No, I’ve got to help the little bunny.”

A very shiny black crow was perched in an old oak tree — Jack’s old friend, Poe.

A long time ago, Jack had helped Poe get out of a very bad situation. It had happened in late summer when the August heat was so heavy most of the animals slept all day. Jack was searching the side of the dirt road for the perfect piece of gravel to aid his digestion.

From the tops of the trees that lined the road, a group of crows cawed. Caw! Caw! Caw! Four crows were perched together on a branch across from a smaller, very shiny crow.

“If you want to be in our gang, you got to kill one,” said the biggest crow to the smaller, shiny crow. “We got to know you’re tough inside.”

“But crows don’t kill. They scavenge,” whined the shiny crow. “It isn’t natural.”

“You’re a looser, Poe!” the other crow said. “You ain’t joining our gang if you can�