It was obvious something wasn't quite right.

First, I saw Mini, our nearly one year-old kitten, with her nose jammed under the sofa. A mouse, I thought. It'll keep. Or it'll be a snack.

Ten minutes later, Mini had obviously got bored and wandered off. But now it was Zola, our Breton spaniel, with his nose wedged under the furniture. He whimpered from time to time, but that's dogs for you.

We were having tea by then, so we figured we'd leave the rescue until we'd finished.

We're accustomed to having wildlife in the house. I've rescued two owls from the flue that runs from the wood-burner. We've had a flock of starlings. There's a fouine (stone marten) that lives in the attic from time to time. Grass snakes have turned up in the photolibrary and outside the bedroom window. Toads and lizards are occasional visitors. And there have been rats in the ceiling (had to get rid of those). Every year, kestrels nest in a hole in the outside wall. We can hear the chicks twittering when we have a bath.

We see mice, voles and shrews all the time - usually brought in by the cats who play with the tiny critters until they break. Sometimes the cats eat them, often they prefer a bowl of crunchies after all that exertion.

After tea, we re-arranged the furniture and pulled the sofa forward ready to pounce on the mouse or vole.

Being prepared for a tiny rodent, the sight of a young rabbit gave us quite a shock. The change of scale made us jump. Not that the bunny was exactly huge, as you can see from the picture (though Trish's gardening glove does make it look even smaller). It was not exactly a baby, but definitely very young.

How it got under the sofa is anybody's guess. None of our animals are owning up to it. Trish dropped it back into the pheasant enclosure in the neighbour's field. It's an entire wood, fenced off against the foxes and fouines and the most likely place near here to find a rabbit warren. I hope it found its way home.