The Sad Tale of Scar the Rabbit

One reason why I haven't posted much lately is because my life has just seemed so mundane--nothing out of the ordinary. I really didn't think my readers would be interested in hearing about the latest potty-related achievements of my 3-year-old or tales of irritating Walmart clerks. But something weird did happen to me today.

We'd had a little cotton-tail rabbit hanging around our front door for the past week. He'd made himself at home in our holly and hawthorne bushes , and would venture out in the evening. It had almost become a nightly ritual of taking the boys out to watch the rabbit scamper around. This rabbit was unusual in that it had a 5 inch long scar on it's back, so naturally I named him Scar. He's probably had a close call with a predator--out here we have coyotes, bobcats, rattlesnakes, owls, and hawks.

Anyway, i hadn't seen Scar for the past two nights, so I thought maybe he'd left to find better digs. But when I pulled into my driveway after coming home from the store, i noticed a small brown mound on the top of our mailbox. I jumped out of the car for a closer look and to my dismay I discovered it was a severed rabbit head. At first I thought it was a prank a la "The Godfather," and I was angry that some punk kids would do that to a cute little rabbit. But I changed my mind about that after I examined and disposed of it so that my 3-year-old wouldn't see it and freak out. The head appeared to have sustained trauma caused by an animal (I don't want to get too graphic here for those of you sensitive souls), and was probably a couple of days old based on insect activity (been watching way too much CSI).

My husband also mentioned seeing a hawk circling around our house Saturday afternoon, so Scar's luck probably ran out that day. A scavenger bird (such as a vulture--they love to hang around on trash day) probably found his little body and dropped part of it. For it to land like that on our mailbox was pretty unlucky and strange, but at least I didn't find it by stepping on it while playing with my kids in the yard. My 3-year-old has a hard enough time going to sleep because of the "man" in his closet, so I'm glad he didn't see poor little Scar.

So there ends the sad tale of Scar the rabbit. I know it's all part of the food chain, but I still feel a little sad, like I've lost a pet. Maybe I'll feel differently about rabbits next year when I start a garden and the little pests eat all my plants. Then I'll be like Mr. McGregor in the Tale of Peter Cottontail--trying to whack the little thieving bunnies with my hoe and bake them in a pie. Eww, rabbit pie.