Thursday, June 30, 2011


Stella and I found the remains of a baby rabbit in our back yard. My guess is the rabbit was a victim of a cat, although not our cats, since we keep our cats inside for a variety of reasons. A lot of people say that outdoor cats are a contributing factor to the decline of songbird populations. I'm not sure I buy this, especially because I've noticed that a lot of the people who advance this theory have two-acre lawns and commute 30 miles round trip every day in their SUV and don't see the connection between their own lifestyles and decline of wildlife. But what do I know -- maybe songbirds eat that shit up.

Why is it we never
find this kind of rabbit
in our backyard?
Anyway, Stella saw the fly-covered haunches of a baby rabbit in the yard and was dumbstruck. She contemplated the maggoty remains for a long time, and then said, "Look, Mama! A rabbit's foot! It's good luck!"

It must be great to be five.

I wound up scooping the rabbit remains into a plastic bag, knotted it shut, and threw it into the trash. In the process I trapped several flies in the bag with the decaying rabbit. Can you imagine how happy those flies are? It's like fly paradise in that bag. Throw in some dog poop and it would be nirvana.

Looking forward to the day
when I find a rotting piece
of this bunny in our yard.
If it's great to be five, it must also must be great to be one. Sometimes I think my main purpose in life at this point is to hand Baby W something -- anything -- that he will find interesting for at least two or three seconds. His baby-length attention span is completely exhausted at the end of that brief period, and then it's my job to hand him another something that will interest him for another two or three seconds. If I fail in my duties, he lets me know and my dereliction of duties is noted both in my annual performance review (since he's only one year old, I've only had one so far) and my permanent record, in the form of this comment: "waaaaAAAAH!"

As I keep handing Baby W things to hold, and as he ditches the previous items that no longer hold his attention, the result is a growing pile of discarded materials in a sort of corona surrounding the baby, including things like a whisk, a toothbrush, my watch, a spatula, my keys, and some abandoned toy of Stella's that she needs back right this instant. Sometimes it's hard to discern that an actual child exists under the pile.

The poor guy is actually somewhat under the weather today, with a fever and general crankiness. This provides an excellent excuse to sit and nurse Baby W for hours while drinking strawberry lemonade. Because of course if the baby is doing all that nursing, I need to replenish my fluids so as to produce more milk -- and really, strawberry lemonade is the classy way to rehydrate. Water is so plebian.

No worries, though -- I'm sure the baby will recovery quickly and be back to his normal ebullient self soon. After all, we've got a rabbit's foot for good luck.

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