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 back 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.