It's a regular 'As The World Turns' back there, I swear.
A week before Easter, a large brown rabbit was spotted in our backyard by the neighbors to the East of me. I thought they had just seen a typical, wild rabbit out there when they told me about it, so I didn't think anything of it. Wild rabbits are common around these parts.
The next day, however, when I went out into my backyard, I almost had a heart attack when I saw this thing lop out from behind our composting bin:
Now, I know that it is really hard to tell the actual size of this beast from this photo because there is nothing given for reference, but just try to imagine this rabbit towering over a chiuaua and giving it the 'Imma gobble you up' eye.
It was HUGE.
I gave the thing a carrot and came back inside because I kept having visions of the Killer Rabbits in Monty Python and I wanted to protect my jugular vein. I was CONVINCED that this rabbit was someone's escaped pet, because of how large it was and because it was so very unafraid of me. But when I posted his picture on Facebook, I got a lot of "oh yeah, we had some of those this morning too!" or, "that's typical of where you live" type responses and so I found myself becoming VERY confused.
And then, the next day after that, I went out to look for the rabbit again with some carrots in hand, and you cannot even imagine my surprise when I turned around as I heard some rustling behind me and saw this:
I grabbed my jugular and ran inside again.
Now I was REALLY confused. Were they wild rabbits who were multiplying? Or were they partners in crime on the run from their cage? I envisioned myself putting up flyers around the vicinity, stating "FOUND: two rabbits! Call Emery and I will return your precious pets to you!" only to become the laughing stock of the ENTIRE neighborhood because they really were wild and could be found in every single yard everywhere.
I didn't make flyers. I just fed them more lettuce and carrots and got used to the idea of having cute bunnies in our yard for our boys to swoon over for awhile.
The next day after I discovered the second rabbit, Myer and I had been out in the yard most of the morning talking to the rabbits and having a grand ol' time watching them and feeding them. Myer was getting a little overheated, though, so I decided to take him inside and get him cooled off a bit before lunch. Not even 5 minutes after we came inside, my neighbor to the East of me texted my phone and said "Our dog just ate the brown rabbit."
Ummm... good thing little Myer wasn't out there to see that chapter of the drama, eh?
I have NO idea how the brown rabbit got over or under the fence and into the neighbor's yard, but sure enough, he was a goner.
I posted a tribute to him over on Facebook to memorialize his little hopping imprint on our lives:
hahaha. (PS. I maybe have no heart.)
Days went by and we never told the boys where 'The Brown One' had disappeared to. I suggested that maybe he up and R-U-N-N-O-F-T to find sweeter carrots somewhere (a hidden heaven metaphor, see that?), and we contented ourselves with seeing the white rabbit out nibbling on our grass every now and then, and feeding him goodies once every couple of days.
And then... YESTERDAY.
Almost TWO WEEKS after the rabbits first appeared, my neighbor to the WEST of me knocked on our door as we were heading out on a date and told us his rabbit was in our yard and could he go back there and try to catch it?
We stammered that he was welcome to go back there and "good luck!" and we left for our coffee date. As we were leaving he mentioned that he "also had a brown one somewhere", which caused my husband and I to exchange looks of utter mortification and horror as we climbed into the car.
The moral dilemma: Do we TELL him and his children about the morbid and violent fate of 'The Brown One' (may he rest in peace)? Or do we smile and nod and pretend that we are none-the-wiser, leaving them hope that their brown rabbit has found a field of clovers somewhere and is fancy free and having the time of his little floppy-eared life??
I'm all ears.