"Fiver?" said the other rabbit. "Why's he called that?" "Five in the litter, you know: he was the last--and the smallest. You'd wonder nothing had got him by now. I always say a man couldn't see him and a fox wouldn't want him. Still, I admit he seems to be able to keep out of harm's way."
From Watership Down by Richard Adams. Our summer read aloud. Often read in the presence of a few rabbits in silflay on the lawn. Read it.