Cody B. answered • 02/15/26
Elementary & Middle School Writing Tutor|Essay Organization
Bilford the badger was having difficulties making friends near his home in a new burrow in the depths of a lush field of dancing dandelions, swaying along with the fresh summer breeze.
It did not compute: He was friendly, always cleaned his fur, never left mud and grime between his claws after mining for food. So what was it? Why did others he encountered harass him? Treat him as a pariah?
"Why am I different?" he pondered. "How can I advocate for myself and prove that I am worthy of being at least someone with whom another can partake in small talk at the very least?"
Bilford tilted his head back, stubby snout staring down the light of the cresting moon, at which point he remembered that he had not eaten since the moon was fuller. He meandered around the field, smelling the air, the dirt, searching for the likes of a delicious mole to subdue his sorrows, if only for a moment or two. While scuttling along on the unsuccessful hunt, he came upon a jackrabbit, nibbling his last snack before taking his evening rest.
As Bilford approached, belly low, he noticed the twitch of the jackrabbit's ear, the indication that his position had been compromised. But he observed something quite out of the ordinary; the rabbit didn't run. Instead, he turned his attention away from his dandelion stem and faced the, socially accepted, fierce predator.
"Out for a midnight stroll are we?" the jackrabbit gargled, still chewing his meal. Strangely, he seemed not to fear the badger that was standing in front of him, knowing well the carnivorous nature of the weasel.
Perplexed by this, Bilford questioned, "Are you not scared of me? Are you not worried that I will pounce upon you and have you as the dinner that I crave?"
"Not particularly," answered the jackrabbit, rolling his eyes slightly, turning his head and taking another bite out of the quarter remaining stem, only half facing Bilford.
Enraged by this answer, Bilford blurted out, even though the question was mainly for himself, "What is it about me?! Why am I so different that I don't even put fear into prey?" His shoulders dropped. His low hanging belly descended even more so towards the ground as he began to sob.
The jackrabbit, normally not one to feel empathy for creatures that ate another, hopped gently over to where Bilford cried. "You have a calm, gentle aura about yourself," remarked the hare. "I don't know exactly what it is, but you do not strike fear in me as other badgers I've encountered have."
Bilford raised his head, a wetness clumping up some of the black under his eyes. "I make you feel calm?" he hesitated.
"Yes," replied the jackrabbit. "You are different. I can't quite put my paw on why, but I do not fear you."
Hearing this gave Bilford a strange feeling. Not anger, not happiness. An indifference. He was a badger; an animal regarded as aggressive. Yet, he had never felt that feeling. He craved others and belonging, while other badgers he met were almost always solitary; alone and looking for their next meal. Bilford found himself looking for other animals, not just for food, but for someone to talk to, to connect with. He despised being alone. He hated his solitude. He wanted a friend.
"You know," began the jackrabbit, "it isn't a terrible thing to not be ruthless, cruel, and solely focused on your prey. It could bring you warmth that many badgers will never find, nor worry about. You could, in fact, live a much happier life."
Hearing this, brought about new tears in Bilford's eyes. Not ones of sadness, but ones of relief. He now felt that he had been validated. What he had always felt, he now understood. He was different because he wanted something his kind did not associate with often: companionship. He wanted to talk and connect with others, not simply use them to fuel his body.
"Thank you mister jackrabbit," Bilford breathed.
The jackrabbit somewhat confused, but not entirely by this answer replied, "Thank you for being different. And please, call me Jacob."
