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.