“Sam?” Frodo called down the hallway. “Did you say that there were rabbits in the garden?”

“Yes, sir,” Sam replied, hurriedly following Frodo’s voice to the pantry. “They ruined almost all the cabbages and carrots. The Gaffer said he’d turn them into supper, and he would’ve, Mr. Frodo, only we didn’t see them again after that.”

“I think I know where they went,” Frodo replied, a bemused expression upon his face. He pulled open the pantry door, and there inside were at least two dozen rabbits rooting through barrels and sacks of vegetables, and making good progress through the supply of fruit as well.

At the center of it all was Pippin, sitting on a barrel and cradling a miniature white bunny in his arms.

“Some of them are just babies, Frodo. They’re too tiny to be supper,” he said, his lower lip trembling a little. “Can we keep them?”

Frodo’s eyes scanned the room, surveying the damage before coming to rest on his teary-eyed cousin.

“Well, at least they didn’t find the wine,” he muttered before turning to Sam, rendered wide-eyed and speechless by the sheer loss of food.

“Sam, would you prepare a room for our new guests?”

*

“Hey, you! Get out of that washbasin! That’s meant to stay clean!”

Pippin scooped up the wayward bunny and nuzzled its face. “He’s just a little baby, Sam. He doesn’t know any better.”

Sam shook his head and sighed crossly. “Pardon me for saying, Mr. Pippin, but I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into.” He shooed three rabbits out of the wardrobe and latched the door securely. “These are wild rabbits. I don’t know how they’ll take to being indoors.”

“Well, I don’t want them to be turned into supper,” Pippin said firmly. “Don’t worry, Sam. I’ll take good care of them!”

“I’m not worried about you, sir,” Sam said miserably as he glanced around the spare bedroom. He wondered if he would ever see it clean again. “It’s this poor smial I’m thinking of.”

“Frodo said there’s lots of room for them,” Pippin said happily as he arranged several sleepy rabbits in a row on the bed. “It’ll be all right, Sam. At least if the bunnies stay inside, they won’t bother you in the garden again. Want to hold one?”

Sam shook his head, trying not to smile as one bunny sniffed around his feet.

*

“Breakfast time!” Pippin cried, barreling into the room. He carefully divided the vegetables in his arms, distributing the carrots and cabbages and tomatoes to the rabbits. “Look, Frodo! No wonder they were in your garden. They’re starving!”

Frodo stooped to pick up one black and white bunny. He fished out a few leaves of cabbage from his pocket and could not help but smile as he fed the tiny creature.

“Pippin, why don’t you go and fill some bowls with water? I’ll bet these rabbits are thirsty.”

“All right!” Pippin said, running from the room and almost crashing into Sam on his way out.

Frodo gestured to the now-dozing bunny in his arms. ”How could the Gaffer threaten to turn him into supper?” he asked teasingly.

Sam frowned in response. “How much longer do you plan on keeping them here, Mr. Frodo?” Warily, he glanced around the room.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Frodo said with a shrug. “Pippin has been so busy looking after them that he’s kept himself out of trouble” He glanced down at his bunny and smiled. “I like having them around.”

Sam sighed, hoping to be back in his own smial when the inevitable crisis occurred.

*

“Frodo? Frodo! Wake up!”

Groaning loudly, Frodo fought the urge to pull the blankets over his head. He cracked open one eye and squinted against the early morning sunlight. “Pippin? What is it? Are you sick?”

“No,” Pippin said tearfully. “But I think the bunnies are!”

“What happened?” Frodo cried, throwing back the blankets and reaching for his robe. 

“I went to check on them when I woke up and, well…” Pippin blushed furiously, his eyes downcast. “Do you remember that time Merry dared me to drink all the prune juice?”

“How could I forget?” Frodo asked grimly. His eyes went wide as realization hit. “You don’t mean…”

“Yes.” Pippin wrinkled his nose. “It’s very smelly in there.”

They hurried down the hall to the spare bedroom. Momentarily hesitating outside the door, Frodo shut his eyes, but no amount of mental preparation could have made him ready to see the state of the rabbits’ room.

“Well,” Frodo said quietly when he had regained use of his voice, “let’s collect every mop and broom and rag. And all the soap we can find as well.” He glanced over at his younger cousin. “We have a lot of cleaning ahead of us.”

*

“You’ve made the right decision, sir, if you don’t mind my saying,” Sam said firmly. Pippin sniffled loudly, but did not protest.

Frodo sighed. “Bag End is just not a suitable home for rabbits.” He glanced around. “This is a good spot,” he declared, and gently set down his crate.

Critically, Pippin searched the area before placing his crate on the ground as well. “It’s all right, I suppose. But I’m going to miss them, Frodo.”

“I know, Pippin,” Frodo said, pulling his cousin into a gentle hug. “But Sam was right. The best place for them is in the wild, where they can run free and not have to worry about making a mess.”

Pippin nodded. “I think they’ll like being in the sunshine again,” he offered somewhat timidly.

“I think so too,” Frodo said, smiling warmly. “Should we release them now?”

“Only if everyone promises not to cook any rabbits that come into the garden.” Pippin glared at Sam, who blushed under the scrutiny of his gaze.

“I don’t think I’ll ever eat rabbit again,” Frodo said honestly. “Ready, Pip?”

After a final farewell, they unlatched the crates and stood watching as the rabbits disappeared into the wood.