Sugar And Spice Pages 1-3

Sugar and Spice
The story of two unusual best friends


Sugar stood in the middle of her small pasture, bordered with a short, white, picket fence.
She grazed on the fresh, green, grass and watched lazily at the barn swallows as the caked together their muddy nests.
Sugar is a Shetland Pony, her back about 7 hands high off th ground. She sunned her back lazily, as she thought of how nice it was to live on the Strawberry Hill Farm.

Strawberry Hill farm was inhabited with all sorts of animals. In the barn, the big red barn, lived 2 sows and their piglets, an old barn owl, a cat and her newly born kittens, many horses and goats, and 3 sheep.
outside of the barn lived a pasture of cows, a pond full of frogs, and their neighbors the chickens.
The chickens lived in a very neat little coop down by the Strawberry pond, and were free to leave theri nests at any time of day until they were locked up for the night.
Although, the chicken coop had an un-noticeable tilt to it. Leaving about 3 inches worth of space between the wall and the ground.
It may not seem like alot of space, but to a rabbit, it became a desirable door.

Her name is Spice. She is a broken brown lop. Broken, your thinking, she’s a broken lop? Broken in a rabbits terms, means not one solid color, but spread apart to show white in little spots and large patches.
Spice’s ears look as if they have been dipped in brown paint, and they hang against her head neatly.
Thats the thing about Spice’s ears, they have never stood straight up like a normal rabbits, but hung down serenely like Eayore’s.
She had come to her home beneath the chicken coop on Strawberry Hill last summer. She had escaped from a large rabbitry meant for show rabbits. She didn’t like being a show rabbit, in fact, to her, it felt like a prison.
Her house was a thin wire cage that boxed her in at all sides, making sure she never escapes. Decoration included nothing, not like the sweet clovers and dandilions that grew in rows near her bed.
Rather than eating spilled chicken feed, and morsels from the garden, she ate from a cold, tin feeder full of dry grain.
Rather than smelling the sweet smells of flowers and the farm, she smelt the rancid smell of other rabbits.
She hated her old prison home, she’d never go back there even if they started feeding her vegetables. She loved being free and to herself, she wouldn’t give her life on Strawberry Hill up for the world.