The race is not always to the swift.

.

Chapter Twelve: Down the Rabbit Hole

While this book focuses primarily on tales of the city of Zootopia, it is important to consider the lore of the suburbs, specifically the Tri-Burrows. And the most populous burrow is of course Bunnyburrow.

Judy was sort of glad she was reading this on her own, since she was sure Nick her would tease her about it. Especially when she saw what came next.

With over 81 million residents, Bunnyburrow is a land of big families. Much of this has to do with the rabbit population, although bunnies are by no means the only ones who live there. I myself grew up in Bunnyburrow and know how bunny-dominated it is, from burrow name to architecture. This is not to say that there is prejudice against minorities, or no more than in any other part of Zootopia and its surroundings, but the default identity is bunny.

Judy was also glad she wasn't reading this around Sharla. She was in her bedroom, with a fire going, because it was still frosty outside.

This is as good a place as any to explain the differences between bunnies, rabbits, and hares. Both rabbits and hares belong to the family Leporidae, which includes about sixty species. However, mixed matings over the years has blurred the lines between these species, so that one family may have a wide range of sizes, colors, and other features in offspring. These are not generally recognized as mixed matings of course, in the way that the matings in the next chapter are, since they can produce offspring. However, this does not apply to rabbits and hares. Confusingly, a jackrabbit is actually a hare, and can have kits with other hares. To add further to the confusion, the term "rabbits" is often casually applied to "hares," perhaps because the latter is a homophone with "hairs" and a near-homophone with "airs."

(The classic cartoons of Smug Bunny are rife with puns that play on this similarity in sound, among them Hare Peace, Hare Extensions, Fresh Hair, and even Hare Apparent.)

Technically, a hare will be larger than a rabbit, with black tipped ears. Hares are better at running long distances. They also tend to be more solitary, while rabbits live in large communal dens, often with extended or at least numerous families. However, there will be exceptions to this last pattern, particularly in Bunnyburrow, where hares frequently live the lifestyle of the smaller bunnies.

And what of the term "bunny"? It is a less scientific, lighter term. One might even say it's a "cuter" term, although some of the younger, more progressive bunnies bristle at the word "cute," having as it does connotations of foolishness and helplessness.

Judy pulled the blankets up a little higher, burrowing more into the covers, gladder than ever that she was reading this alone. She tried not to think of Nick reading it the night before, or of Sharla writing it months ago.

However, as I said, "bunny" is the default identity. Hares and rabbits in the 'Burrows, and in the Big City, are identified as bunnies almost automatically. Even as a sheep, I almost thought of myself as a bunny sometimes. One of my best friends was a bunny and her family was very welcoming to me. I never really cared for carrots, but I otherwise was pleased when they invited me over for home-cooked meals. (My parents both had jobs outside the home and we mostly ate microwaved food.)

Judy laughed out loud. Sharla seemed to be getting off topic.

There were times I wished I were a bunny, although I also for a long time wanted to be an astronaut, and it seemed like bunnies led more traditional lives. (My friend grew up to fulfill her childhood ambition of becoming a police officer, but not without some resistance from her family.)

Judy sat up suddenly. She wished that Sharla hadn't said so much about her and her family. True, Sharla hadn't actually said Judy Hopps by name, but almost anyone could figure it out. After all, Judy was the first and still only bunny cop, and she'd been on television more than once. Maybe no one read Chapter Twelve, in their eagerness to get to Chapter Thirteen, but Judy was concerned. And what if this made it more difficult to protect Sharla?

She wondered if it were too early to wake up Nick. She'd already had breakfast but he hadn't. She wondered if he'd been up late reading. Well, if he had, then he must've finished Chapter Twelve. And he couldn't be too concerned if he hadn't come to talk to her about it. Of course, that might be because Chapter Twelve was less personal to him. He wasn't a bunny and he hadn't grown up with Sharla. Was Judy overreacting, or was Nick not reacting enough?

Or maybe he hadn't read it yet. Maybe he'd gone back and more carefully read the parts of Chapter Eleven they'd skipped over. She might have to wait for him to catch up.

She skimmed through the rest of Chapter Twelve. It was a collection of stories about bunnies, followed by the less popular stories of moles and gophers. The moles were seen as blind and cautious, the gophers as intuitive and observant. This was in great contrast to bunnies, who had a range of overlapping but sometimes contradictory images, from sentimental homebodies to incredible flirts to sly tricksters, "not unlike foxes." Judy snickered.

Then someone knocked. If it was Sharla, Judy would cautiously bring up the indiscretions of Chapter Twelve. And if it was Nick, she'd wait to see what page he was on.

"Fluff, you up?"

Judy flung back the covers and ran to the door. "Nick, have you read—?" She stopped, not wanting Sharla to overhear, although she was pretty sure her sheep friend was downstairs.

"Come on, Snowshoe, let's go for a walk."

Judy smiled a little. Yes, he'd read Chapter Twelve.

Then she frowned as Nick whispered, "I know what's in Chapter Thirteen."