Gray Hares

Well, I guess my memory ain't what it used to be.
Thank goodness I kept a diary for most of my early years...

At the library last week, I went wandering through the "classics" for a change.
And I found Watership Down by Richard Adams with a picture of a rabbit on the cover.

"Hey, I remember reading this in school for a book report."
Remembering that I liked it and that it had a happy ending, I checked it out.

Dug right into reading it.

Bunnies! Bunnies! Bunnies!
Wheeeeeee!

"Oh, I didn't remember that happening. "

"Hm. How long until the friendly family moves in?"

"Man, these words are pretty big and strange. Not at all like the stuff I liked to read.
Maybe I skipped a lot. That would explain why I don't remember so much. "

"ACK!!!! How come I don't remember anyone getting trapped in a snare?!? I'd have remembered THAT!"

I kept reading and reading waiting for something familiar to happen.
Waiting for the family... and the mole... and all the rest of the animals...

Now, 400 pages later I realize,
I've never read Watership Down ever in my life!

How can that be?
I can remember the book fair, and my mom going over the suggested reading list, how I simply HAD to read a Newberry Award winner...
And I look at the cover of Watership Down, and there's no mention of a Newberry Award, or any other kind of award...

But I remember reading this book!

So, off to Google I go.

Apparently, the book *I* read was Rabbit Hill by Robert Lawson.

But aside from that...

I read 400 pages of a book I had never read before I realized I had never read it before.

How sad is that?
Isn't that almost mentally troubling?

Now I'm starting to wonder what other fabulous "memories" I have that never really happened.