Thumper

Last year, about this time, I began to clean out the garage.

Brian said he had seen a mouse running in there, so it was time.  Tucker was brand new and sleeping in the house.

The other kids were swimming, being watched by Samantha.

Ok.  I backed the car out.  Then I went to the front corner of the garage, moved a piece of plastic…and out runs a baby rabbit.  A baby.  Light grey fur, little white cotton ball tail, the whole thing.  Thumper.

The bunny runs right past me and stops in the other corner of the garage, right next to the garage door.  He could have easily run out.  But in his extreme state of anxiety and fear, he just stayed in the corner and kept jumping up the wall.

Bunnies are cute.  They really are.  But they are also pests and love to destroy my plants and trees, and they leave pellet poo all over my yard.  So I am able to see past the cuteness and focus on the task at hand.

What is the task?  To kill it?  Trap it?  I clearly had not thought there was a rabbit in my garage.  Brian said he saw a MOUSE!!  And frankly, I kind of doubted that.

So I grab the closest thing to me, which was my snow shovel.  Yes, I realize a snow shovel in Texas is underutilized, but it came with us from Utah.  And it reminds me of Idaho, snow, family, lots of good memories.  Aaahhh.  I love snow.

Anyway…I grab the snow shovel.  I thought I would just trap it against the wall it kept jumping up, and then I could formulate a better plan.  Using my cat-like reflexes (hahaha), I thrust that snow shovel into the corner.  Success!

WAIT…I accidentally pin the baby bunny TO the wall.  Not what I was intending at all.  I wanted to trap it, not kill it!  So now this has become a disaster.

Bunnies cry.  CRY.  AND IT SOUNDS LIKE A HUMAN BABY.  Did I mention that Tucker was maybe one month old?  That stupid rabbit was crying so loud, and it sounded just like my own baby boy!

I froze.  What should I do?  I couldn't stand the crying.  It was excruciatingly painful to hear.  I decided to push harder and just kill the thing.  I pushed.  Thumper cried louder.  Harder…louder.  Finally, it stopped making noise.  Tears filled my eyes.

I pulled back the shovel, and that little bunny wasn't dead!  He had a nice fold in the middle of his tiny body, and he was slowly pulling himself along the floor.  Feeling about as awful as I could, I decided to end the misery I had inflicted.  I raised the shovel and whacked it on the head.

THUMPER DIED.  And I killed him.

I scooped up his tiny body with the shovel and put it in the garbage.  Then I said a prayer of gratitude that none of my children had witnessed that.  And then I called my mom to confess.

Unreal.  I don't know if I am cut out for Texas.  This place is tough.