It's Wednesday morning, 5:00 AM. I don't rise this early, anymore. We defied bed until about 6 hours ago, so Nicole could snack prior to midnight-before-surgery. Seconds ago I stepped into the shower, and am dripping wet. Nicole yells, from downstairs, "India just brought a live rabbit into the house!" I realize that I'm going outside in a very few minutes, damp, onto an ice-covered patio, likely with a rifle in one hand and a struggling, bloody bunny in the other.
Nicole sends India back outside, feeds the cats (keeping them closeted and happily occupied), throws an old towel over the now-motionless rabbit, and gives me the history as I dry & dress. Good news: no blood! Bad news: regardless, rabbit is clearly injured. It righted itself, then moved several feet, but ended in the flop-roll of a damaged bunny. Good news: rabbit didn't try to escape into the room/house-in-general. Bad news: rabbit's position is about a foot from the outside door. Nicole retrieves my work gloves from the basement while I check the rifle and plan.
Send Nicole to get ready. Being late for surgery is not really an option. Check the rabbit. No evidence of breathing, no pupil-response to flashlight, no response to being uncovered or touched. Rabbit is probably dead. Re-cover rabbit. Bring India into house and directly into crate. Surprisingly, she's only slightly uncooperative about passing so near the rabbit. Carry rabbit outside, into yard, away from house and fence. Place on ground. Use rifle to ensure rabbit is dead. (Weird. Fur conceals entry-wound completely. Thought I missed, from inches away. Lift rabbit. Exit-wound is obvious. Bunny is dead. Good.) Carry carcass well away from house, leave for crows & chickadees (Yes. Those antic little bundles of black, white, & grey fluffy cheer will scavenge a corpse. I suspect most seed-eaters will, especially in winter. Fat & protein are fat & protein, after all.) Trot back to house, slowing to cross snow-covered icy drive. Shut the gate, re-enter the house, shed gear, safe the rifle, check the clock. Ignore India whining from her crate, head back to resume an interrupted shower.
I should be glad for the lack of fuss. No blood or entrails to clean from the carpet or furniture. India ate none of the rabbit, so there will be no tapeworms. No cats escaped or interfered. I didn't have to restrain a struggling half-killed critter so I could finish it. What was a simple rabbit, could have been skunk, porcupine, or even something dangerous like a rabid raccoon. At worst, we must treat the animals with a flea-preventative. Still, I'm unsettled and annoyed with the dog. The morning was busy enough. And I don't like killing things, or even guiltlessly shooting almost-certainly-dead animals to ensure they don't suffer.
Nicole sends India back outside, feeds the cats (keeping them closeted and happily occupied), throws an old towel over the now-motionless rabbit, and gives me the history as I dry & dress. Good news: no blood! Bad news: regardless, rabbit is clearly injured. It righted itself, then moved several feet, but ended in the flop-roll of a damaged bunny. Good news: rabbit didn't try to escape into the room/house-in-general. Bad news: rabbit's position is about a foot from the outside door. Nicole retrieves my work gloves from the basement while I check the rifle and plan.
Send Nicole to get ready. Being late for surgery is not really an option. Check the rabbit. No evidence of breathing, no pupil-response to flashlight, no response to being uncovered or touched. Rabbit is probably dead. Re-cover rabbit. Bring India into house and directly into crate. Surprisingly, she's only slightly uncooperative about passing so near the rabbit. Carry rabbit outside, into yard, away from house and fence. Place on ground. Use rifle to ensure rabbit is dead. (Weird. Fur conceals entry-wound completely. Thought I missed, from inches away. Lift rabbit. Exit-wound is obvious. Bunny is dead. Good.) Carry carcass well away from house, leave for crows & chickadees (Yes. Those antic little bundles of black, white, & grey fluffy cheer will scavenge a corpse. I suspect most seed-eaters will, especially in winter. Fat & protein are fat & protein, after all.) Trot back to house, slowing to cross snow-covered icy drive. Shut the gate, re-enter the house, shed gear, safe the rifle, check the clock. Ignore India whining from her crate, head back to resume an interrupted shower.
I should be glad for the lack of fuss. No blood or entrails to clean from the carpet or furniture. India ate none of the rabbit, so there will be no tapeworms. No cats escaped or interfered. I didn't have to restrain a struggling half-killed critter so I could finish it. What was a simple rabbit, could have been skunk, porcupine, or even something dangerous like a rabid raccoon. At worst, we must treat the animals with a flea-preventative. Still, I'm unsettled and annoyed with the dog. The morning was busy enough. And I don't like killing things, or even guiltlessly shooting almost-certainly-dead animals to ensure they don't suffer.
