In the dead of winter they're a flash of white on white, a blur of kicking legs and twitching ears and coal-black eyes weaving among the stick-thin birch trunks and wind-crested snowdrifts. Sometimes you only see the hints of their rapid departure, the miniature flurries of snow kicked from low-lying branches and the quiver of underbrush, the tiny
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I still remember the first time I had rabbit. It was in Paris and it was quite tasty!
Haven't had it since.
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I can barely bring myself to eat rabbit anymore. I had it at a restaurant with my husband last year and it was the first time I'd eaten it since I was a child.
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