The crime scene: from the backyard to the kitchen, around the breakfast table, and finally the front porch. This was the only picture I could find of the table and rug.
The victim: an adorable spring baby bunny probably just weened from his mamma.
The killer: an old fat family cat who was energized by the spring weather and motivation to bring a gift to his mamma.
The witnesses: a toddler boy and his hysterical mamma.
It was a lovely spring afternoon in Texas very close to Mother's Day. The cold had broken, the rain had stopped, everything was turning green and it was warming up. The back door was open to let in the fresh air and Tumbleweed was thrilled to be allowed in and out again. The back door led into a huge backyard of nothing but a lot of grass and a big wooden fence that went all the way around. Not exactly a place for hunting anything spectacular but Tumbleweed didn't know that. In the short time we had lived there, he brought several gifts to me; baby moles, lizards, and occasionally a bird. All arrived at my feet dead. Now you might be thinking, "Ah, poor animals." But they're not that cute and dead, they're even less attractive. Besides, I'm used to it. Tumbleweed has been bringing me gifts of love for many many years. It's like getting fresh flowers from your husband for no apparent reason at all. Always a surprise and sweet. Only with a husband you automatically wonder what he's done wrong that he needs forgiveness or what he's planning to do that he needs permission. I digress... Anyway, I always thank Tumbleweed for his gifts and pat his head and dispose of them discretely. Although I had seen bunnies in the back yard, they were usually too fast for Tumbles and would manage to squeeze under the fence before he could get them. But this day was different. This day, Tumbleweed was energized by the spring air and the bunny unfortunately didn't stand a chance.
Colin had just woke from his nap. He was about a year and a half and still very much "toddling". I distinctly remember him playing in his room just off the kitchen. I'm working in the kitchen doing who knows what. Doubtful I was prepping anything for dinner, but for the story's sake let's assume I was being productive. It was quiet and peaceful. Then I hear this little noise. A squeal of sorts. I look up from the sink and I see Tumbleweed carrying something in his mouth as he trots into the house. He greets me with a meow (nothing like a cat talking with its mouth full) and I see the bunny. He has it by the throat and it's squealing for his life. I know this because a rabbit only makes noise when it is in dire straights; otherwise, they are quiet. This bunny was begging for anything to save it. Great! It's one thing for Tumbleweed to bring me a gift that's already dead or even almost dead (especially a lizard - who cares right?) but it is quite another when the gift is NOT dead and is cute like a baby bunny and is going to die if I don't do something.
So I approach Tumbles and calmly say, "Put the bunny down. Let go of the bunny." Tumbleweed looks at me like I've just lost my mind. He's not going to drop his prize. Besides, he's not done with it yet. He still needs to play toss and catch, bat and swat, watch and wait. He just barely got it under control from outside. Drop it? Not gonna happen. Also, my cat is panting. He's worked really hard to get this little guy. But I'm thinking I can rescue the bunny if I can get Tweed to drop him. I continue to press for him to let go. He continues to talk with his mouth full. So I decide to beat him at his own game and I choose the "watch and wait" card. I figure, he eventually has to let it go no matter what he plans to do with it. He NEVER eats his kill so I'll get it eventually (it's for me right?)
Finally, Tweed drops the bunny. The bunny has been holding the "hold still and wait" card. As soon as his body touches the floor, he moves. I expect him to hop away and huddle under something and I'll never catch it, etc. I wish! Not this bunny. Apparently, many many rounds of toss and catch / bat and swat have already taken place. This poor animal was in horrible shape.
At this point, I'm now horrified. I am no longer using a calm voice with my cat. I am no longer filtering my words for the sake of my toddler in the next room. I am absolutely hysterical. Probably not as hysterical as the bunny but dang close. The words coming out of my mouth are along the lines of the following: (read hysterically) OMG, Tumbles what have you done. Oh poor bunny, oh your leg, oh it's bleeding. Tumbleweed it's bleeding. I need a towel, don't get on the rug bunny, don't...oh my....shit! Tumbleweed, leave it alone, don't .... Stop! Bunny Stop! Oh, there's blood everywhere. What is that?! Are those intestines, is that guts, is that what guts look like? STOP! BUNNY! STOP! Tumbleweed, I will never forgive you for this. Colin, stand back, don't touch the bunny, don't touch the floor, no touch, hear me? no touch....This towel won't work, I like this towel. Oh, shit, shit, shit! Tumbleweed, leave the rabbit alone! Oh crap. You poor bunny. My rug! Tumbleweed you are in so much trouble. The baby bunny's back leg was broken but out of desperation he moved as fast as he could and he took off into the kitchen. As he moves, you're thinking, "Oh, good, you can rescue the bunny and save him from that horrible cat." In theory yes. But the bunny was no longer a cute fluffy ball of fur. It was drenched with saliva, blood and intestines trailing along behind his broken leg. And my cat no longer is trying to catch the rabbit but instead is just watching the rabbit try to get away. Admiring his work perhaps? So it hobbles along and then goes toward the round table in the kitchen that sits on a rug. Until that point the bunny had been on a surface that could be mopped of any evidence of brutality. But as he approaches the rug I become even more hysterical. At this point the only intelligible word in my hysteria is "shit" repeated over and over. I am beside myself trying to catch the bunny (failing). I've gotten a kitchen towel to grab it with, but it took me a moment to find one that I was willing to throw out, I've tried to get the cat away from the rabbit (failed) I've tried to tell Colin to move back (failed). I've tried to stop the bunny from running all over the rug leaving his body parts along the way (miserably failed). It was absolutely HORRIBLE! Literally, the bunny's bowels are strung around the table, a trail of blood is from the back door to the kitchen and around the table, the bunny is still bleeding, Colin thinks his mother has lost her mind and the cat doesn't understand why I'm getting involved in his game.
Finally, the bunny is exhausted and stops. I yell at the cat to get away. I pick up the bunny with the towel. I feel his little heart beating with fear. He immediately knows that he's been captured again but somehow knows it's not by the cat. He starts to calm down. He's dying. He knows it and I know it. At this point, I'm just wretched with anguish over the whole thing. I apologize to the bunny that I wasn't able to rescue it. I apologized for my cat being a cat. I promised that he would be able to die in peace. I gently wrapped him in the towel and placed him on the front porch in the shade. I knew it would only be a few minutes and he would die. I didn't have it in me to put him out of his misery. I wouldn't know how and even if I did, I wouldn't have been able withstand one more squeal. We were both exhausted from the trauma. Enough was enough.
I went back in the house and Tumbleweed proceed to give me a mouthful of why I shouldn't have gotten involved, that he had the whole thing under control and he was not pleased with my behavior at all. I proceed to let Tumbleweed know that I don't want any more bunnies as gifts, not ever, dead or alive! Colin was still standing in the exact spot where I had moved him out of the way. He looked as if he had just witnessed something unique. I'd say; a murder would qualify as unique in my book. I just broke down and cried. I cried for the bunny and as I looked at my rug that would never be the same again, I cried some more. I cleaned up the scene of the crime and realized that I would always have blood stains on the rug to remind me of the incident known now as "The Bunny Story"
I eventually sold that rug without divulging the whole story. Practically gave the thing away due to some "wear and tear and a few stains".
The next day after the incident I picked up Colin from Mother's Day Out. His craft he made was a lovely cutout of a Momma Bunny with her baby bunny all decorated with Colin's early attempt at coloring and a little message about a mother's love. Sick sense of humor our God has.
