The Competition
One of the organisers came up to Bushy, Stewy and Declan with a bottle of water. ‘Hi, boys. Would you like a –?’ Before he had a chance to finish his sentence, Bushy grabbed the bottle, popped the lid and downed the whole thing in a matter of seconds. He was so thirsty, it was like he’d spent all day in the desert. Declan had never seen someone drink that fast.
When Bushy finished, the organiser looked at them in shock. ‘Em … that was for the rabbit.’ They all just stared at each other awkwardly, not knowing what to say. ‘Good luck,’ he said. As he walked off, the judge came over.
He was an older gentleman with a white beard and glasses. As he approached, he smiled and shook Bushy’s hand. ‘Hello, there. My name is Hennessy. I hear that you have been a very committed young man, coming here in the middle of your football tournament.’ He then looked down at the rabbit and smiled. ‘And this little chap is Wilbur, I presume.’
‘Th-thanks. I mean, yes,’ Bushy said nervously.
The judge examined Wilbur very carefully. You could tell that this wasn’t just a fun little project for him. This was his life. He checked the rabbit so carefully, it was clear he had done this many, many times.
‘OK, interesting,’ he said to himself while feeling Wilbur’s ears. Bushy glanced at Declan in a panic. Hennessy didn’t give anything away. They didn’t know if he thought Wilbur was great or appalling. Every now and again, he would scribble something on his clipboard. Declan could see Stewy trying to read it but Hennessy kept the board tight to his chest.
After a few minutes, he backed away from them. ‘Well, I think I’ve got everything I need. I still have a few more to see. Have a look around, boys.’
‘Thank you,’ Bushy muttered. He had taken his other pets to competitions so Declan assumed this was all second nature to him, but Declan had never seen him act this nervous. He was probably extra stressed because they had rushed to get there, and he was probably also thinking of the upcoming match.
While Hennessy looked at the other contestants, the three boys wandered around the building. There were rows and rows of cages with other rabbits, guinea pigs and hamsters. There were many rabbits, so it looked like Wilbur had a lot of competition.
Declan knew that Bushy was worried that all the running around had unsettled Wilbur, so he tried to get him to look at the cats, dogs and hamsters. If he looked at the other rabbits, he’d just psych himself out. After about an hour, they saw Hennessy walking up the steps of the stage.
‘Can I have your attention, please!’ he bellowed. ‘Looking at the rabbits this year, it is clear many contestants have upped their game. It was very close but there can only be one winner.
‘Third place goes to Patty O’Hara. Well done, Patricia. This is her first time partaking in a show – you should be proud of yourself for coming third.’
As the three boys applauded, a girl of about their age walked up to the podium with her black and white rabbit to collect her rosette and a box of sweets.
‘In second place,’ Hennessy continued, ‘we have Philip Loughlan. Well done on the runner-up prize, Phil.’
As Philip collected his prize and rosette, Bushy looked at Declan and Stewy anxiously. He was so nervous, he looked like he was literally in pain. He’d made such an effort to get Wilbur there that it would crush him to walk away with nothing.
‘And, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you have all been waiting for,’ Hennessy announced. ‘First place in this year’s rabbit category goes to the one and only … Adam Frosby!’
‘Ah, come on!’ Stewy shouted, frowning and stamping his foot.
‘YES!’ Bushy screamed with his hands raised to the ceiling.
‘What are you so happy about?’ Stewy asked.
‘Stew, Adam Frosby is Bushy,’ Declan explained.
‘YOUR NAME IS FROSBY?’ Stewy yelled.
‘What’s wrong with you? The coach says his name when he calls out the players every game!’
Stewy was deep in thought. ‘I never listen to that part – I only listen out for my own name!’
Bushy wasn’t even listening to Stewy’s comments. He was hysterical with joy. He ran up to the podium, shook Hennessy’s hand and took his trophy. Everyone could see how ecstatic Bushy was and the audience was clearly having a good laugh about it. Bushy was so happy, you’d think he won the All-Ireland final.
Hennessy also handed him an envelope and a small box. ‘There’s your €20 prize there, kid. Enjoy it. And you get sweets, chocolates and a few nibbly bits for Wilbur. And for the record … I always say it’s close because it makes people feel better when they don’t win. But between me and you, as soon as I saw your rabbit, I knew he was going to be the winner. You obviously take really good care of him.’
‘Thank you,’ Bushy said, trying to hold back tears. When he got back to Declan and Stewy, he gave Wilbur some treats before placing him back in the box. He then held his hands out in triumph. ‘Aren’t you going to congratulate me?’
Before Declan had a chance to say anything, Stewy blew a gasket. ‘WHAT KIND OF NAME IS FROSBY?’