The Jackrabbit

Duane's take

Well, the marker's got the word on this one, and I'm just here to pass it along. Let me tell you about the Jackrabbit. The true plains rabbit.

Lives only in the west. Now right away you've got a creature that knows something about exclusivity — this is not your backyard rabbit, not your garden-raiding cottontail. This animal belongs to a specific piece of the world, and it has no particular interest in anywhere else.

Those ears — long as a burro's, and that is where the name comes from, straight from the marker's mouth — those ears are the first thing you notice. Then you notice the legs. Very long legs.

And if you think that's just for looks, consider this: the jackrabbit has been clocked at speeds up to forty-five miles an hour. Forty-five. That is not a rabbit.

That is a furry argument against chasing things. Speaking of which — people did chase them, with greyhounds. Organized hunts.

Man looked at the fastest dog he had and said, let's see what happens. The plains Indians had a different and more practical relationship with the jackrabbit. They prized it — for food and for fur.

That is a life taken seriously. To the white man who came west, the jackrabbit was something else: a reminder of desert-hard life. The marker says it plain and I won't dress it up.

And when the drouth came, and when the depression came — and in west Texas they came together, which is the kind of combination that leaves a mark on a people — the jackrabbit became a meat source for thousands. Thousands. There is a weight to that number that deserves a moment of quiet.

Now, the marker notes that the jackrabbit is a subject of tall tales. It says so right there, which means somewhere there is a marker acknowledging the existence of tall tales about itself, and I find that deeply satisfying. But here is where the story really turns.

May 1932. Odessa, Texas. Someone decided that the jackrabbit deserved not just admiration, not just pursuit, not just a place in the stew pot — but a rodeo.

The world's only Jackrabbit Rodeo. The actual hero of that event was the jackrabbit itself. The marker is clear on that point.

Hero. Not subject, not attraction — hero. Out there on the west Texas plains, color blending with sand and dry grass, ears up, legs ready, clocked at forty-five miles an hour — the jackrabbit has been prized, hunted, eaten, mythologized, and crowned.

Not bad for something that was just trying to cross the caliche flats in peace.

What the marker says

True plains Rabbit. Lives only in the west. Burro-like ears gave him his name. color is protective, blending with sand and dry grass. Very long legs make him a swift runner, clocked at speeds to 45 miles and hour. Object of hunts with Greyhounds. Was prized by plains Indians for food and fur. to white man a reminder of desert-hard life. In drouth and depression, meat source for thousands. Subject of tall tales. Actual hero of world's only Jackrabbit Rodeo, in Odessa, May 1932.