Thistle Finds the Burrow Bell — Every day, Thistle raced the root route before sunset: beet patch, cabbage bend, pumpkin corner, then home with a carrot for supper. Read the full story →
Every day, Thistle raced the root route before sunset: beet patch, cabbage bend, pumpkin corner, then home with a carrot for supper. The garden smelled like cold soil and peppery leaves, and his paws knew every bump between the rows. But one windy afternoon, the cabbages clapped, the maple leaves spun, and the burrow bell did not ring. Without that bell, no rabbit knew when to stop gathering.
Thistle grabbed the last carrot anyway, because the route had to be finished. Crunch! His teeth struck something hard. From inside the carrot came a tiny, silver ding that shivered through the watering can, bounced off the garden fork, and made the basket handles hum. “That’s ours!” Thistle squeaked.
Because of that, rabbits popped from beet tops and pumpkin vines. Because of that, everyone followed the bright little sound back through the leafy whirl. At last, Thistle carried the bell home in its carrot shell, exactly where his muddy paws belonged. Next time you spot the carrot by his mouth, can you hear the tiny ding?
