RIP One Easter Bunny

He was supposed to be a mostly "indoor" dog.  That was my wife's plan, at least, but more and more, it becomes evident that he is not.  She sometimes tries to bring him inside, but normally within a matter of minutes he begins whining like a tired toddler, and barking until she relents and takes him back out.  It's hard to fight those natural instincts.

To say that Buster has a lot of energy, is pretty much an understatement.  He is definitely a bit on hyper side and he tends to make known to you, the pleasure that he has, of you coming outside to see him.  He varies from bounding about, to leaping up towards you (two paws forward, which can be painful at times).  My wife has tried some of the Dog Whisperer techniques to keep him from his ballet like antics, but unfortunately she has not yet tamed the beast.

That brings us to a time near the most recent Easter holiday.  My two young boys and I had ventured into the jungle that we commonly refer to as our backyard (I really am truly hoping that the rain will cooperate with me, so that I can finish mowing it.).  We were playing, kicking a ball around, when we came across a rather gruesome scene.  There, lying next to the garage, were the grisly remains of a fairly good sized rabbit.  Our little Buster had claimed an unfortunate, furry victim.

I had to keep my rather curious young geeks at bay, as they tried to get a better look at the macabre sight.  Reminiscent of a CSI episode, I examined what remained of the poor creature.  Flies were encircling his little corpse like bi-planes around King Kong.  One front leg was missing (I guess it wasn't his lucky one, eh?) and there was a little hole there where it had once been.  The geek in me came out, because to me, it looked sort of like a biology class dissection project.  It was interesting to see some of the inner workings of the little guy.  A little gross, but interesting.

I ushered the boys inside and had to break the news to my wife about what had happened.  It saddened her, of course, that her little baby would do such a thing.  I saw her heading out the door with two WalMart bags, and I said, "No, you are not going to do that."  Besides the fact that I feel a certain amount of responsibility to handle some of those type of things for her, I knew that she can't even cope with the sights or sounds of vomit, much less the little bio-hazard we had going outside.

No gloves were readily available, so I had my wife fashion two impromptu ones out of the bags she had.  With a few more in hand, I set out to do the necessary deed.  Though not trained to do this type of work, I was able to get it accomplished.

So if you didn't get as much sweets during the holiday as you have in the past, now you know.

~TGCD


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"Easter says you can put truth in a grave, but it won't stay there."  ~Clarence W. Hall