Some bunny lessons

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There’s a small bunny that resides near my office. He’s certainly not big enough to call a rabbit. He’s the size of my fist. This little bunny has poorly selected this busy intersection as his residence. The 10-foot grass strip is hardly a fitting home. I took it upon myself to help little Milkshake (his assigned name) relocate. As Milkshake’s realtor, I knew immediately where his new home should be. He should live in my yard, but first I had to catch him.

Armed with a butterfly net, a putter (for shaking the bushes) and a piece of cardboard, I headed out to help my little friend. It took forever to find him hunched down in the grass right in front of me. “Well, this is easy,” I thought, as I dropped the net over him – then I looked down and it was empty. He went for the bushes. I used the putter and cardboard to corral him toward me. Nothing worked. Nothing! The little guy has some serious speed.

Wet with sweat, I gave up satisfied that bunny had earned the designation rabbit. I was satisfied he could take care of himself. You win, rabbit.

When I went back to the office, it was obvious what happened. Someone asked me, “What was your plan once you caught him?” “Take him somewhere better,” I said, “that had always been the plan.” He refined his question, “What was your plan to get him home?” Now there’s a question I couldn’t answer. Once he was in my net, what then? I had nothing but a putter and a piece of cardboard.

Bunny catching is a little like selling. You better be sure you know what to do with what you catch. Do you have a plan, and do you have the resources (staff, capacity, etc.) for all the business you try to catch? Sometimes it’s more profitable (and less sweaty) to just let sleeping bunnies lie.

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Some bunny lessons

0

There’s a small bunny that resides near my office. He’s certainly not big enough to call a rabbit. He’s the size of my fist. This little bunny has poorly selected this busy intersection as his residence. The 10-foot grass strip is hardly a fitting home. I took it upon myself to help little Milkshake (his assigned name) relocate. As Milkshake’s realtor, I knew immediately where his new home should be. He should live in my yard, but first I had to catch him.

Armed with a butterfly net, a putter (for shaking the bushes) and a piece of cardboard, I headed out to help my little friend. It took forever to find him hunched down in the grass right in front of me. “Well, this is easy,” I thought, as I dropped the net over him – then I looked down and it was empty. He went for the bushes. I used the putter and cardboard to corral him toward me. Nothing worked. Nothing! The little guy has some serious speed.

Wet with sweat, I gave up satisfied that bunny had earned the designation rabbit. I was satisfied he could take care of himself. You win, rabbit.

When I went back to the office, it was obvious what happened. Someone asked me, “What was your plan once you caught him?” “Take him somewhere better,” I said, “that had always been the plan.” He refined his question, “What was your plan to get him home?” Now there’s a question I couldn’t answer. Once he was in my net, what then? I had nothing but a putter and a piece of cardboard.

Bunny catching is a little like selling. You better be sure you know what to do with what you catch. Do you have a plan, and do you have the resources (staff, capacity, etc.) for all the business you try to catch? Sometimes it’s more profitable (and less sweaty) to just let sleeping bunnies lie.

Share.

Leave A Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Some bunny lessons

0

There’s a small bunny that resides near my office. He’s certainly not big enough to call a rabbit. He’s the size of my fist. This little bunny has poorly selected this busy intersection as his residence. The 10-foot grass strip is hardly a fitting home. I took it upon myself to help little Milkshake (his assigned name) relocate. As Milkshake’s realtor, I knew immediately where his new home should be. He should live in my yard, but first I had to catch him.

Armed with a butterfly net, a putter (for shaking the bushes) and a piece of cardboard, I headed out to help my little friend. It took forever to find him hunched down in the grass right in front of me. “Well, this is easy,” I thought, as I dropped the net over him – then I looked down and it was empty. He went for the bushes. I used the putter and cardboard to corral him toward me. Nothing worked. Nothing! The little guy has some serious speed.

Wet with sweat, I gave up satisfied that bunny had earned the designation rabbit. I was satisfied he could take care of himself. You win, rabbit.

When I went back to the office, it was obvious what happened. Someone asked me, “What was your plan once you caught him?” “Take him somewhere better,” I said, “that had always been the plan.” He refined his question, “What was your plan to get him home?” Now there’s a question I couldn’t answer. Once he was in my net, what then? I had nothing but a putter and a piece of cardboard.

Bunny catching is a little like selling. You better be sure you know what to do with what you catch. Do you have a plan, and do you have the resources (staff, capacity, etc.) for all the business you try to catch? Sometimes it’s more profitable (and less sweaty) to just let sleeping bunnies lie.

Share.

Leave A Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Some bunny lessons

0

There’s a small bunny that resides near my office. He’s certainly not big enough to call a rabbit. He’s the size of my fist. This little bunny has poorly selected this busy intersection as his residence. The 10-foot grass strip is hardly a fitting home. I took it upon myself to help little Milkshake (his assigned name) relocate. As Milkshake’s realtor, I knew immediately where his new home should be. He should live in my yard, but first I had to catch him.

Armed with a butterfly net, a putter (for shaking the bushes) and a piece of cardboard, I headed out to help my little friend. It took forever to find him hunched down in the grass right in front of me. “Well, this is easy,” I thought, as I dropped the net over him – then I looked down and it was empty. He went for the bushes. I used the putter and cardboard to corral him toward me. Nothing worked. Nothing! The little guy has some serious speed.

Wet with sweat, I gave up satisfied that bunny had earned the designation rabbit. I was satisfied he could take care of himself. You win, rabbit.

When I went back to the office, it was obvious what happened. Someone asked me, “What was your plan once you caught him?” “Take him somewhere better,” I said, “that had always been the plan.” He refined his question, “What was your plan to get him home?” Now there’s a question I couldn’t answer. Once he was in my net, what then? I had nothing but a putter and a piece of cardboard.

Bunny catching is a little like selling. You better be sure you know what to do with what you catch. Do you have a plan, and do you have the resources (staff, capacity, etc.) for all the business you try to catch? Sometimes it’s more profitable (and less sweaty) to just let sleeping bunnies lie.

Share.

Leave A Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.