The Dead Rabbit

Seeing a flattened bunny laying on the road reminded me of an episode that happened many years ago.

We had ‘adopted’ a beagle, Pepper, that had the run of the town before coming to live with us. Every so often he would slip his collar and revert back to his old ways. I have no idea as to what kind of stock he came from, but he did have some hunting instincts. When we went bunny hunting he may not have been the best at flushing the furry little critters out of the brush, but he was exceptional at retrieving them after the shot was made.

I came home from school one day and seen that Pepper had slipped his collar again. I changed my clothes and as I was about to get back into the pickup and go looking for him, he came around the corner of the house with the neighbor’s pet rabbit in his mouth. This was a good news, bad news situation. The good news was that the lost was found. The bad, the bunny was dead. The neighbor/owner of the dead bunny was known by everyone in town to be ‘different’ and I was sure that he would demand that Pepper be destroyed. I did what any sane man would do, I took the dirty, chewed up bunny into the house, gave it a bath, blow dried its fur, snuck into the neighbor’s garage and put the rabbit back in its cage, hoping they would think it died from natural causes.

A few days later, I was trimming some bushes in the back yard when the neighbor came over. After the usual neighborly conversation he asked, “Did you hear that Fluffy died?”

I stammered around a bit, finally saying, “Um…no…um what happened?”

The neighbor replied, ” We just found him dead in his cage one day. But the weird thing is that the day after we buried him, we went into the garage, and someone had dug him up, gave him a bath, and put him back into his cage. There are some real sick people out there.”

All of a sudden, I didn’t have that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach anymore.

Keep your fork


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