Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Softy.

I took Garrett and Evan to school yesterday morning. Garrett was toting a wooden cage that will be used as a prop in his production tonight. He and Rob built it this weekend and I hope to post video of it tomorrow because it is pretty cool.

Anyway, Spence and I have colds and I kept him home so we dropped the big boys off, ran to the dry cleaners to drop some shirts off for Rob (one of the last installments of "Preparing for China," thank goodness) and we came home. Nothing was out of place or unusual as we pulled into the driveway and came inside.

I decided to bake some Oatmeal Scotchies and as I was puttering around the kitchen I saw something moving out the window. A closer look revealed a wild rabbit on the curb, looking around. That's not an unusual sight around here -- we have a ton of rabbits in the area and we often see them or their footprints in the yard, on the sidewalk, and even crossing the street.

I went back to my baking. A bit later, I looked out and the rabbit was still there. I looked longer this time, and it kind of looked like it was trying to move but couldn't. A nervous pit developed in my stomach. Another look a few minutes later confirmed that it was, indeed, trying to move, and it was getting nowhere.

It was raining. A gray and gloomy day. I put on shoes and stepped out to see just how bad the damage was.

The rain was running down the street in the gutter. The rabbit had clearly been hit by a car (dear god, not MY car, I hope) and its hindquarters were twisted in a grotesque way. Clearly the rabbit was not going to make it.

I went back inside and, in tears now, called the local animal control number. Bless his heart, the guy didn't laugh or make fun of me when I explained that I was crying because there was an injured wild rabbit in front of my house. He just told me to call the dispatch number, which I did.

I related my story again, apologizing for my tears, and asking that someone come by to "take care of it." What a euphemism. "Hey, can you come over here and kill this poor animal for me because I haven't got the balls/gumption/inner fortitude to do it myself?"

Anyway. They came, I stepped out the back door and thanked the animal control officer, went back inside, and crouched down low in my kitchen, looking in the lighted oven, watching my cookies rise and turn golden brown. And when I stood back up, the truck and the rabbit were gone.

And I'm not really sure why it is still making me so sad.

2 comments:

  1. I feel your pain, poor little rabbit :(
    I once had a small gecko put to sleep rather than watch it die a slow painful death from starvation/being impacted

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  2. Aw, I'm sorry. Dave hit a robin the other day and I felt really bad. There wasn't much he could have done to avoid it...two robins fighting (or maybe they were amorous?) and the one pushed the other into the path of our car (no, I am NOT making that up).

    Sick of those robins to involve us in their personal issues like that. I feel used.

    You did the right thing with little bunny though, the humane thing...because some people might not have noticed or bothered to call.

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