Once upon a time. . . . . .

I lived in a small village in rural Leicestershire. One early morning in May a training ride took me along some rolling country lanes passing through some wonderful verdant countryside. A hare lolloped out of an open gated field, sped up along the lane in front of me for 50 yards or so, did a u turn and headed back towards me. Before I could react and avoid the speeding creature it had hit me head on smack in the middle of the handlebar extension! How I managed to stay upright I’ll never know but it lay motionless in the middle of the road with sun sun highlighting it’s beautiful tawny coat.
I laid it out under a tree and noted it’s position. After a full day at work I returned to collect the hare planning to get several meals from it. The challenge was carrying it home as it must have weighed well over 4kgs.
On arriving home I placed the hare on the lawn and after getting changed saw my 2 year old boy stroking it as if it were our cat.
I then couldn’t bring myself to even think about eating it.
We buried the beautiful creature behind the shed near my small vegetable plot. Over 30 years ago.