Raising Hare: A Memoir

by Chloe Dalton

existence. I looked out of the window at the mother hare, lying peacefully in the hedge, and wondered if she had noticed the deformity. Would she abandon her leveret if it could not keep up? What should I do if she did? What future could there be for a hare that could not run? I washed my hands and doused them with a little of the milk supplement I had used to feed the hare when she was a newborn, so that, if I now left any traces on her leveret, it might at least be a familiar scent. I pulled the curtain aside carefully and picked up the leveret to examine its hind legs. It made quiet puffing noises of anxiety—a touching series of soft, warning grunts—but did not seem to be