My dad belongs in a Disney movie.

Last summer, Kim and I road tripped around to see friends and family before we left the country. One of our stops took us to my hometown, Leechburg, PA. While we were barely there 24 hours, we got to have a hearty dinner out with my dad and his wife Paulette the evening we arrived. The next day, they showed us the Disney-ish magic they’ve created with some of the local wildlife.

First thing the next morning, I found myself squatted down by their back porch, feeding Saltines to their rabbit friends. They have a pair of bunnies that are so calm and accustomed to them that they can feed the rabbits by hand. My dad named one of the rabbits Bunyon. I haven’t figured out if his intent was to honor the mighty lumberjack Paul, to rhyme the bunny’s name with his favorite vegetable or to poke fun at a recurring foot ailment. Whatever his inspiration, I found Bunyon and Mrs. Bunyon adorable. They cautiously approached my outstretched hand and gingerly grabbed a cracker. Then they retreated just a few feet away to crunch and munch. Their plump bunny cheeks puffing and thin bunny whiskers twitching. A minute or two later, they were back for more.

Later in the day we sat on the front porch to catch up on hometown gossip and news. A small sparrow fluttered to the railing and sat. He looked at all four of us, as if he was waiting for something. Dad knew what to do: he waited until the unnamed bird flew away to go into the house to retrieve some sunflower seeds. Within three minutes, the seeds on the railing had attracted Mr. Sparrow back for a snack.

As if all this feral activity around the homestead wasn’t enough, Kim and I went for a walk to discover one more magical Leechburg creature, one who isn’t tame enough to initiate contact at my dad’s house. Instead, he struts around among the trees about a block away, occasionally calling out so you know he’s there. And then he runs away and hides. His name is Kevin and he’s a peacock. I have no idea how Kevin was relocated to quiet, little Leechburg, but I know Leechburg isn’t as quiet as it used to be before Kevin’s cries pierced the air.

Unfortunately we never caught a glimpse of Kevin’s beautiful blue and green plumage but you can see the determination in our faces as we hunted him. It was a beautiful day to hunt a peacock anyway. All in all, it was a short but sweet visit to the place I grew up.