Ministry Resources

Dusty Thinks It’s More Fun to be Good

Author: Crystal Ortmann

BOING! Dusty’s ears shot straight upward and he stood on his hind legs to see if he could see what made the noise. The frightened bunny froze in position, just like God created him to do when there might be danger.

After a few moments passed with no further sound, he relaxed. Dusty tucked his legs under him and formed a sort of furry ball with big ears.

“What on earth?” he heard his lady say. “Cocoa, where are you?” It made Dusty nervous to hear his pal Cocoa’s name called in that kind of voice. It looked like she had caused some trouble again and now she had to be disciplined. “She spends most of her life in time-outs,” said Dusty. “You’d think she would learn. I’m glad I’m not the one in trouble.”

Dusty didn’t understand his friend’s desire to do things that always got her in trouble. He liked the easy-going life. He loved it when his man petted him and fed him treats. He really liked his lady when she said silly things to him. She called to him often, “Dusty, come here and give me a kiss.”

When he heard her, he felt a funny tickle of happiness in his tummy. He ran as fast as he could go in the other direction when she said it, and then she laughed. It made him feel good. “Why would anyone want to get in trouble all the time?” wondered Dusty.

Later on, his lady and man went out, and he and Cocoa were alone.

“Cocoa, why do you act so badly sometimes?” he asked her.

“Buzz off, Wimpy,” she sneered. “I have my own plans.”

“You don’t have to be such a stinker about it,” Dusty said. “I just don’t understand why you enjoy causing trouble instead of being nice. Being good brings lots of rewards.”

“Well, we just don’t think alike, that’s all,” the fresh little girl bunny said. She ran down the hall, kicking her feet out behind her to show she didn’t care.

Dusty thought and thought, but he just didn’t understand. It didn’t make any sense to him. He liked being good.

Dusty heard strange sounds from the other room and hopped as fast as he could to see what was going on.


Dusty screeched to a stop and stretched up high to see what it was. He heard bunny snickers from the next room. “It must be safe or Cocoa wouldn’t laugh,” he said to himself. He hopped slowly and carefully into the next room.

Cocoa stood on her big hind feet and busily ripped wallpaper off the wall. She giggled as each strip came down. Cocoa’s chocolate-brown fur was covered all over with paper and dust and she was almost as white as Dusty.

“Are you out of your mind?” Dusty almost shrieked. “What are you doing? Don’t you know you’ll be in big trouble when our people get home?”

“Who cares?” she replied and went on ripping. “They just want to spoil my fun anyway, so why should I worry about it?”

“Hmm, hum, hmmm, hummdy, humm,” she sang as she ripped. Just then, they heard the sound of the garage door opening and Cocoa ran to hide. She knew she was in big trouble if they saw her. Dusty stood in the midst of all the mess, looking confused, when his people came in. He figured they would blame him.

“Cocoa!” called the lady sternly. “Come here. You are acting like a very bad bunny!” So, Cocoa once again got in trouble, due to her own mischief.

Dusty frowned. His lady squatted down and petted him.

“You’re such a good bunny, Dusty,” she said softly. “I know you didn’t do this.” She stroked him until he calmed down. His people always seemed to know how much all this upset him.

The little rabbit snuggled up close to her and gradually relaxed. “What are we going to do with that little imp?” the lady asked.

Dusty didn’t know, but he knew one thing. It paid to be good. Then, even when it looked like you were the bad one, people knew you weren’t the guilty one. “When will Cocoa ever learn it’s more fun to be good?”

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