Yesterday, while shining shoes, some customers came in with their adult daughter. I could see that the daughter had something clutched under her arm that seemed furry, but couldn’t tell exactly what. I went in for a closer look. When she pulled it out to pet it, I realized it was a rabbit pelt! I hoped that she never owned the rabbit intact, but assumed that if that was the case, I should just be happy it wasn’t a baby.
And then last night, I was out mowing the yard when all of a sudden I heard the repeated thud of the mower hitting… something. I had run over both baseballs and tennis balls in the yard before (I would think that we live in a ballpark, but have yet to see a concession stand), so I just assumed that’s what it was. When I looked down to see a rabbit turned practically inside-out and in a few pieces, I freaked out. I mowed a bunny!!!
Brandon was pulling into the driveway at the moment, and I couldn’t even talk. Using some sort of loose pantomime, I pointed him in the direction. He assured me the bunny was already dead when I attempted to puree it.
So yesterday was all about the dead bunny, and I dedicate it to Starbuck. Revenge, my friend. Sweet, sweet revenge.



