Still Always Thinkin’

Sky burial

Sky Burial

By some miracle Andy agreed that this was a good idea.

Yes, he agreed. “Let’s throw this dead bunny on the roof of the garage.”

It had a lot going for it. No really, bear with me, here. Now that the idea of the bunny as meat was in both of our heads, we felt a need to leave it as food, but without traumatizing the kids in the park behind our house. The garage is almost as many square feet as is the rest of our yard, but it is conveniently free of obstructions and children. Flying meat-eaters should be able to spot the delicious shape of bunniness from high above.

This is because although the bunny has been beheaded, he is still shaped like a bunny. We assume meat eaters have an eye for even malformed -hell, maybe especially for misshapen small mammals. We happen to be fond of crows. We hope a few will come and settle where we can watch them. Heck, maybe they’ll keep an eye on our garage from now on. We can throw them scraps… It could have a very happy ending, especially when you consider it started with a dead bunny in the basement.

I can’t remember which of us flung the rabbit onto the roof, but I’m pretty sure it was Andy, as I have a notoriously inaccurate throwing arm. I do clearly recall realizing just a second too late that there are ways this could go wrong. One way it could go wrong is if he actually bounced and then slid ┬áback off the roof, bounced off the lawn chair and landed heavily on the lawn. Oh how I long for video for other people to be able to appreciate the wrongness of it all. Andy saying “Whoop, oh. Oops, geeze, oof. Aw, no.” Me backing away with my hand over my mouth, “Oop, oh no! It’s.. Oh no. No. Not.. No!” But laughing uncontrollably.

Animal loving friends, you have to remember, he was ALREADY DEAD.

That was a sad thing, yes it was. But it was finished. Once he slid off the roof and bounced to the ground he started to be funny in a disturbing way. I found it troubling that we (two intelligent adult humans with thumbs AND four lucky rabbit’s feet) were being out maneuvered by a dead bunny.

Thankfully, the second toss/fling was a success. He stayed put. From the back yard,from the deck, from driving by in the alley, from almost everywhere, the bunny was invisible. In a few days, he’d be found and eaten. Done deal. The only possible hitch was that from any window on the back of our house, he was terribly, terribly obvious. The biggest surface in our back yard is our garage. From the kitchen window, from our bedroom window… from the windows of our neighbors on either side… the bunny was like a hairy mole on the face of my garage, unpleasant, but impossible to ignore.

A series of unfortunate turns of event succeeded in making sure Pez the bunny would haunt us for months. It’s not over yet. He may haunt us for years. Please, god, let him slough off his nasty flesh before I have to deal with him again. I’m very comfortable with bones.

First, the crows of the neighborhood decided to avoid this side of the block for days and days, weeks, even. Then, he froze solid. And was coated with a light dusting of snow. The snow was just a dusting, so he was still looking up at us whenever I looked out of our bedroom window. For better or for worse, he was eventually covered with a LOT of snow. No I’m serious. A Lot, alot of snow. The biggest snow since the big one of 91. The bunny became little more than a lump in the white expanse that was our garage. Then he wasn’t even a lump.

But I didn’t forget him. He was still there, and I knew he was still there. He knew I knew. Now that he was frozen, I had visions of him thawing out and melting into nasty little icicles or chunky, hairy little currents streaming down from the garage roof. Having him snowed under was just postponing the inevitable. But I forgot about the fact that we were getting our house and garage re-roofed.

I confess

I confess to Almighty God, and to you my brothers and sisters that I have sinned through my own fault, in my thoughts
(wait, what? this is just intermission? it’s not over?)
and in my words
(something is going horribly wrong up on that stage),
in what I have done
(eating bad gigantic m&m and choc chip cookies at intermission during Bailey’s play)
and in what I have failed to do
(resist the urge to eat for entertainment unless it’s really, really worth the calories).
I ask blessed Mary, ever virgin, all the angels and the saints, and you, my brothers and sisters, to pray for me to the Lord our God. amen

Always Thinkin’

People who follow my life and times probably already know this story, but it seems like the kind of thing my progeny might want to know, so I’m documenting it. It’s graphic, be warned, especially the vegetarians.
Some time this past fall, when it was still warm enough that some of the windows were open, specifically one window in particular in the basement, Jasper found a dead animal in our basement.

The way he said, “Mom..?” from the basement told me something was wrong. “You’d better come down here.” I went down.

In the back corner of the basement, about 10 feet from the open window was something dead. Not just dead, but Big and dead. My first thought (seriously) was that our cats had finally killed the nervous-nelly calico next door and dragged her down the basement. Maybe she came in the window and they found and killed her before she could find her way back out? SSSShit.

The head, which was partially still attached told me it wasn’t a cat. It was a gigantic rabbit, a bunny. Not just anybunny, but a bunny which I had trouble imagining a cat dragging through the small basement window. An adult bunny.

Our basement windows are glass block, but two, one on either side of the basement have ventilation openings. They flip up to make an opening about the size of a business sized envelope, maybe a little bit bigger. It’s big enough for all but one of the cats to squeeze out and back in during the night. We lock them in the basement at night for their own safety. We’d kill them if they went about their nocturnal business in the whole house.

We have received many a kitty-gift on the back porch. Baby bunnies, halves of baby bunnies, just the heart of some mammal, bird heads, feathers, yacked up bone-and-feather piles, mice and mouse parts… Lots of stuff. This was different. It was big and it was in our house. I could actually see the heart- or maybe the liver (something smooth and dark) through the opening which had once been the bunny’s neck. It was like someone had sort of popped the top of the bunny and left it hanging on -like those water bottles with attached caps. Gross.

I brought Andy down to see. We all went upstairs to get ahold of ourselves while we pondered how our bunny-friend (who shall heretofore be referred to as Pez) had come to be dead in the basement. We tried to picture how a cat without thumbs would maneuver such a large find through the small window and into the basement. The window is at ground level when you look at it from outside, but it’s about 7 feet from the floor of the basement. A smart kitty could maybe pick up Pez and drop him in from outside, then come in after him. Or he could have backed into the window and stood on the inside ledge and poked his head out to drag his prize in after him. We went down and investigated. There was a small blood smear on the inside of the window. This told us just about nothing new.

Eventually we’d have to deal with Pez. Like, soon.

I have discovered that the problem with being me is that I don’t dismiss fleeting ideas quickly enough. They catch hold and convince me that they are, in fact, important ideas, considerations or concerns. Once I had the bunny on my shovel (and after Jasper pronounced that he had died long enough ago to be in rigor mortise) and was headed up the stairs, I started to think about what to do with him. This is where my thought processes began to go awry, I think. I thought of the bunny as meat and not garbage. Meat is valuable in a circle-of-life sort of way. It seemed wrong to throw him away.

Plus, I had recently bleached our alley trash bin due to some dead animal or other getting tossed in. I wasn’t about to put such a large chunk of meat in there to sit around. It was a Thursday, which meant it would sit in our trash for a week, so obviously putting Pez in the dumpster was out of the questionI had previously put small kills under a tree in the park across the alley. The crows or neighborhood dogs or maybe ants dealt with them. I mentioned to Andy that I thought this particular animal was really too big to leave for some small child to stumble upon in the park. His first suggestion was that maybe we should hang the body in a tree in the park. Call me crazy, but I found that to be just too macabre.

I was really hoping to recycle the bunny. We used to have a 6 foot tall stump in the back yard. I’d put dead things up there all the time and some raptor or scavenger would come and eat them. Since we took the stump out we had no good place to put dead stuff. But wait a minute! What about the roof of the garage?

Dead bunny on garage roof

Former bunny

postaweek2011 I’m doin it.

Or I’ll try anyway. I’m going to try to get back on this horse of a blog. I may need to stop trying so hard to come up with an entire story. Watch and see what you think. Surely I can come up with one interesting thing to say each week. If I seem to be slowing down, maybe some of my regular visitors can give me a nudge.

postaweek2011 is what I’m doing.