Run Rabbit, Run

It's hard being an Oryctolagus cuniculus. You are liable at any moment to be picked up by a top-hatted magician and produced in a surprising location for the amusement of the offspring of homo sapiens. The wise leaders of Eagleland have, however, legislated for the well-being of rabbits, such that a licence needs to be produced whenever demanded by the local jobsworth. This imposition is not as onerous as might be expected, since any half-competent conjurer is capable of producing ten such documents from his or her sleeve, and twenty from a Horn of Plenty that has been laboriously emptied immediately beforehand. Not content with requiring a Rabbit Licence, the Eagleland powers-that-be are now insisting that the hapless magician also have a fully-formed Rabbit Disaster Plan, to cover such contingencies as Hail, Frogs, Pestilence, Lice, Darkness and Death of the Firstborn. This further imposition has engendered much merriment amongst the blogospheres of Eagleland and Flatland. A kind lady has furnished such a document, running to great length. Even more practical is the advice of a fellow magician: TAKE RABBIT AND RUN.