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A sad pre-Easter tale


Camy

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Yesterday.

 

Half way through a boring day at work my other half phoned. She was in floods of tears. We live in the country and one of the four cats, Percy (Sir Perseus Plumb-Puss, a big black bruiser of a softy) had brought in a baby Bunny. Alive.

 

I arrived home in trepidation. I'm the man (chortle) and as such, and if required, I'm the bastard who has to put poor defenceless beasties out of their misery. Spiders I don't have a problem with: Glass on top, magazine beneath and then a swift lope to the garden. Slugs: no problem either, but Bunnies...

 

I just managed to get my coat off before I was ushered in to see said Bunny and proclaim its fate. E.D. (Eduardo Domanic Wouk-Wouk, black and white) and Percy were circling the bathroom, while the other two feline killing machines were sunning themselves by the fire.

 

There, by the bath, I fell in love. He was sooo cute, with a huge head and soulful brown eyes. Unfortunately he was terrified and hurt, and the Cats meowling outside the door didn't help at all. I picked him up and held him in my hand. He looked at me as if to say 'Help!'

 

After a lot grief, including discussions of vets vs vets fees vs four cats and a countryside full of baby Bunnies vs bankruptcy, I finally took him up to the woods and let him go. He sat there looking really sad and didn't move as I left.

 

Nature is so damn cruel.

 

 

Camy.

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Well now that I'm depressed after that tale... I hope the bunny will be alright, since you said it was hurt. :(

 

Though you did the right thing... after all if you kept it, one of those cats would have hurt it again and who wants to be caged anyway?

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Don't kill me for this...but um...four cats must eat a lot of food...you could have saved on your food bill...

 

 

OUCH! That HURT!

 

Nature is cruel...unfortunately...humanity is crueler.

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I cannot even begin to count the number of baby bunnies and mice I have dealt with in a similar manner. I used to live in the country and I won't even mention the number of cats that called my house home. MOST were mine, some were itinerants who spent a night or two checking out the facilities before deciding to move on to better things (or unspayed females, most likely). I have one cat, Honey-Honey, who was rather fond of testing her hunting skills--and showing me the results. She always brought her catches home to me alive--which was nice for the bunnies and the mice, not quite so nice for the bats, marginal on the snakes and frogs. And then...there was the night I got up in the middle of the night and heard (before I turned on the lights and saw) a nice big crawfish crawling across my kitchen floor. Honey Honey, of course. None of my others would step one foot in the creek and she always had a taste for seafood.

 

I had a special lilac bush where I would put the mice that would probably not make it. I liked to think they spent their final moments enjoying the fragrance. Those that I had better hopes for would go deeper into the woods before being releasaed to hopefully live to tell the tale of their capture and dramatic rescue from the horrible, saber-clawed, evil-eyed beasts.

 

Country life is wonderful. I miss it. My cats are all indoor cats now (we live in a city now) and the most exciting thing Honey-Honey has managed to catch has been a few wasps. Still brings them to me alive, though. Alive and pissed off. Nice kitty.

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