This is the story of a little grey rabbit—and how she reminded me that no matter how many times we’re put back in the cage, the call of the wild soul cannot be silenced.


She was born with her sister under a full moon. Her mother tenderly cared for them. Licking, cleaning them all over. Two squirmy, pink, wriggly worms, lay there, warm in their nest lined with rabbit fur which their mother lovingly plucked from her body. She'd do anything to keep her babies warm, safe, and snug.

Anytime I approached them she would bare her teeth, protecting her precious babies.

As they got older and started to grow fur, their colours appeared.
One brown and one grey. Odd, all the other litters were always spotted and multi-coloured. There were usually more than two in a litter as well. But in a way, it was good. I learned their personalities and could tell them easily apart. I named the grey one Dream and the brown one Poppet.

From the beginning, I always had an affinity for the little grey rabbit. She had something about her, her energy was different from the others. Calmer, gentler, with more soul in her eyes.

Her sister was more boisterous, nervous, and scared of the world. But Dream loved to explore and was never scared.

I enjoyed spending time with Dream, her energy and personality were beautiful to be around. I loved the colour of her coat, it soothed me, and it was the perfect shade of grey. So soft to the touch.

As she grew older the two sisters started to drift apart. They were always kept together but they became more territorial with age. They would often chase each other, and try to dominate one another. It was time to split them up.

Poppet loved her newfound freedom, being all by herself. She also hated being handled. Or rather, she was scared and nervous about being moved. She even bit me once, hard, when I tried to put her out into the playpen. We started to grow a bit scared of her. She needed to be transported from one area to another wrapped in a blanket to keep her calm. She liked the blanket, the protective layer between her and the world.

Dream on the other hand loved being moved around and put into the playpen for the day. The more she could explore, nibble, and experience the happier she was. Sunshine or rain, she wanted to feel it on her face, walk in puddles, and taste the fresh grass.

One day Dream figured out how to escape her cage, and discovered the taste of freedom. She didn't go far. She stayed around the house and the other rabbits. But that was the day everything changed.

When I would put her in her cage she would always try to escape, no longer content with simply being in her playpen during the day.
She'd discovered there was more to the world, the vastness, the new smells, and most importantly more room to hop around and just be a rabbit without constraints.

But, I couldn't let her roam free. Not with the snakes and the foxes and eagles circling nearby. For her own good, she needed to be caged.

As the weeks went by I noticed her coat become more dull. Over the following weeks, she lost weight. I started to worry about her as she didn't look well at all. She was getting all the same food as the other rabbits, all the others were well and good. But Dream for some reason was poorly and sick-looking. I started feeding her herbs in the hope that she would feel better but nothing seemed to help.

Soon we had to move, to a new place, six hours away. We packed up all the animals; rabbits, goats, chickens, and the dog, and took them with us. The new house had a house yard, secure fence, and no pesky pythons that would always find a way to eat the smaller animals!

The next time Dream escaped, I noticed how happy she was.
I didn't catch her right away. I let her lie in the sun, dig in the dirt, and frolic like only rabbits do. She would go visit the other rabbits and say hi to them through their cages too.

There was a distinct difference in her energy and way of being when she was free of her cage. Her stride became longer and more confident, and her curiosity peaked, she even stood up taller.

I thought: "She doesn't seem as sickly or poorly when she is free".
Perhaps this was the medicine she needed, but I still wanted to keep her safe at night in her cage.

She kept getting out and it was more than obvious she hated being cooped up. After a few escapes she became harder to catch. At first, she would sit there, ready to be picked up. But soon, she would run away, until one night, she hid under the house and dug herself a burrow. The first time I used the hose to get her out. The second time, she wouldn't budge. So I gave up.

"I'll catch her in the morning when she gets thirsty and hungry," I thought.
Indeed, in the morning, after a long day of frolicking and digging her burrow, under the house, she came out looking for food. I fed her and caught her easily then. Back into her cage at least for a little while. I thought she might be grateful for a little rest, with a meal and water at hand. The type of creature comforts a rabbit doesn't get out in the wild.

No. The next day she found a way to escape again. No longer belonging to a world behind bars, something had changed in her. She knew where she belonged, and nothing would convince her otherwise. She would do anything to be free. Her coat became fuller and shinier, there was a glimmer in her eyes. She was happy and content.

I kept feeding her outside, my partner and I resigned to having an outdoor, free-roaming rabbit now. It was nice to see her so happy.

One particular day, she came up to me while I was in the yard. I got her a bowl of water and some food. She ate, while I sat near her. When full she lay down near me in the shade, happy and content, legs outstretched and fully relaxed. She was as calm and content as she had been as a little rabbit. Healthier now too!

To my slight surprise, she let me pat her, while she lay happily in the grass. I gently stroked her long, stretched-out body. Feeling her soft coat underneath my palm and fingertips. She didn't stir. It's like she knew I had no intention of catching her. Her aura felt free now. She claimed her freedom and there was not one cell in my body that would dare to interrupt her energy. This is exactly where she belonged and she knew it. We shared a precious moment together. I remember it feeling really special, it touched my heart and soul.

That was the last time I would see her.

That night Dream disappeared. Leaving only a tuft of fur in her trace. Perhaps she'd had another dream, greater than the last one of being free of her cage. Perhaps, the bigger dream was now to become fully wild.

There was a big, wide world out there—one with eagles circling and foxes prowling.
Was she eaten by one? Or had she found a lover and will I start seeing little grey baby rabbits about the property? Did she run Wild in the night and sleep under the full moon? Had she felt Wild and free like her ancestors had, once upon a time?

I will never know.

For days and nights, I hoped to see her again, hoping around the yard. One night I even thought I saw her and ran out calling out "Dream!". My heart longed for her, but deep down I knew she chose the life she'd lived. There was nothing I could have done to make her happy, apart from allowing her to live her life the way her soul wanted to. She took matters into her own fluffy paws and made herself happy.

She valued freedom, so much, that none of the dangers nor none of the comforts in the world could stop her from becoming the Little Wild Grey Rabbit. She listened to her soul and lived her truth.
Now I think of her often and how brave she was to choose the wild over the comforts of a domestic life. How strong her instincts were, that she never allowed them to be dimmed. The Wildness in her took over and won, even when she was born into captivity.
She trusted her inner Wild, even when I put her back into her cage over and over. She learned to embody it, she lived it and trusted me when I finally saw her for the Wild Grey Rabbit that she was, with no intention of holding her captive any longer.

Her life and her story are inspiring to me and I wonder where you see yourself in it.

Are you Poppet? Or Dream? Or perhaps there is a particular part of the story that represents you or where you are in your life right now?

What do you feel in your heart, body, and soul as you read this story? Perhaps, allow yourself to take a moment to ponder. To feel into it.
Be with it.

Perhaps there's a Wild Dream within you too?


If your heart stirred while reading Dream’s story—if you felt something awaken in your belly, your bones, your body—know that you're not imagining it. That Wild part of you is real, and she longs to be felt, seen, and freed. My online membership is a space where women come home to that part of themselves. You’re invited. 

Stef Xx