Hello. It’s Belinda.
A few weeks ago, I found out the July full moon was called the “Hay Moon.” Because farmers start bringing in the crop right about now.
Seemed like a good reason to throw a party. Especially when I saw the Hay Moon date was July 27, a Friday. Bingo.
Ever since my surprise birthday bash I’ve wanted to have another “shin-dig.” But wasn’t sure I could pull it off, if you want to know the truth. Worried about serving the wrong food. Or that nobody would come.
My roommate said don’t be silly.
So first I invited Josh from the warehouse. He wasn’t able to make it on such short notice but he promised to send “a little something” and did he ever.
Two days later it’s at the door. A big box full of special party snacks, including gourmet hay in the silver bag and two top-secret items.
I can’t say anything about them except one rhymes with bapple cabana bookies. The other is a new herbal mix with a twist. There will be a lot of “buzz” around it once it hits the website. I’m probably in trouble for writing this much.
Food was done so I moved on to decorations. First I spread hay on the floor at the bottom of the steps. To set the theme at the entrance. Then I dragged a broom from the corner to a spot beneath the window. “To draw the eye.”
Only thing left to do was invite my boyfriend’s companion. This is where things got weird.
She said she “already had plans.”
Now I have been paying attention but not in a rude way and my boyfriend’s companion does not go out much. The biggest excitement in her week is sneaking into the room beside the kitchen, which is “off limits” to rabbits.
So I figured she misunderstood.
“I’ll be serving some special hay. I hope you can join me at 9 p.m. Friday on the bottom floor.”
She said no thank you but maybe some other time.
The thing about the Hay Moon is this: Miss it and you have to wait a year for another chance.
The next afternoon I tried again. I walked up to the kitchen and stood at the fence. My boyfriend’s companion was sleeping in the shadows beside the refrigerator.
“I have snackers. For the party.”
“Pear blueberry. Half a bag.”
She opened her eyes.
She looked at me for a long time. And then, without a word, she went back to sleep.
That’s when it hit me. She had a date with the English. That’s why she didn’t want to come to my party.
And I was right. On Friday at 9:05 p.m. I was sitting by myself on the bottom level, trying to work up a festive mood. The night light was on instead of the overhead light. So there was no glare on the window.
I could hear my boyfriend’s companion and the English running across the ceiling. And my roommate saying, “Stop that. Be nice. There’s plenty for everyone.”
Plenty of what?
Then I heard her on the steps. Walking carefully because she was carrying a big box.
“Belinda, I love your decorations! How fun.”
She sat down beside me and unpacked the box.
First she pulled out two platters—one for me and one for her.
Then she reached in and lifted out an enormous bowl. It was overflowing with salad—romaine, escarole, dandelion, chard, parsley, cilantro.
She put half on my plate and half on hers. Then she helped me to open the bags of gourmet hay and the top-secret treats.
With that, the party was on. And that’s how it went. My roommate and I relaxing, sitting on the floor, eating our special party food and enjoying the view through the window.
“Happy Hay Moon, Belinda,” she said.
And it was.
Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select
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