So the other night, I got to shovel a rotting rabbit carcass off my yard.
He looked kinda like that rabbit, except his eyes were cloudy and his skull was wide open.
No idea at this point how he ended up dead on my lawn in that state. My working theories are, A) a feral dog got hold of him, or B) Bridgette ripped its head apart with her bare hands. Both are equally plausable examples of the food chain in action.
I can’t say I enjoyed shovelling Stinkies the stiffened bunny into a garbage bag. It was pretty much the most disgusting thing I’ve done in years. I know a few who would suggest it was some sort of karmic retribution for the content of this blog over the years. I would advise those folks to shut their rotting bunny mouths.
To all those planning a similar sort of activity in the near future, my earnest advice is for you to avoid breathing in through your mouth, lest you inhale the hot, reeking essence of rabbit putridity. I would also advise against running your fingers through the dead bunny’s fur, as this is less comforting than you’d think it would be. Also there are lots of bugs in there.
Fortunately, the ordeal is over now. The rabbit no longer taunts us with its reminder of our mortality, and my shovel has been sprayed off with holy water (stolen from the garden hose of the Catholic church next door). To all my friends interested in the virtue of frugality, the rotted bunny husk can be obtained for free from the garbage bin in my driveway until Thursday, at which time it will be picked up by the City of Minneapolis sanitation department, presumably to be deposited on the desk of mayor R.T. Rybak.
Farewell, Stinkies. Your death ruined everything, just like Princess Di.