Every morning, the first thing I do when I wake up is go to the bathroom, and then I let Julie and Ollie go outside to potty as well. After they do their business, Julie and Ollie come inside and I feed them and hop into the shower. Then I fix my breakfast (three eggs over-easy, cream cheese and a glass of almond milk with protein powder), sit down on the couch and eat, pack my lunch, get dressed, take the dogs out again, grab a couple of Milk Bones for them, put Ollie in his kennel, gather my things and climb in the car to drive to work. Every single morning, Monday through Friday, that's my routine. It varies a little on the weekends because I don't have to pack my lunch or go to work, but during the week, I do the same thing every single day. Until today anyway.
It only took a few seconds this morning after I let Julie and Ollie out the back door into the yard until I heard a noise ... a screeching noise. At first, I thought it was coming from my neighbor's yard, and it was still pretty dark outside, so it took a minute or so for my eyes to adjust and for me to realize where the screeching was really coming from ... at the back of my yard near the fence. And almost as soon as I realized where the noise had originated, it stopped. Then ... I ... saw ... Ollie. The minute I saw him, and what he was doing, I knew what the noise was. I'm sure my sleeping neighbors weren't too happy about me taking off across the yard in my undies and a t-shirt as I yelled, "Oliver, NO, NO, NO! Drop it, Oliver, drop it!!!" Nope ... Oliver wasn't listening to me ... nope, nope, nope, he wasn't. By the time I got to him, Julie's attention had shifted from pooping to what Oliver had in his mouth, and she began to trot toward him. My neighbors were probably even more pleased when I started shrieking, "Julie, NO, NO, NO! You stay!!" Thankfully, as Julie has aged, she's learned to be a better listener, and she stopped in her tracks as I grabbed Ollie's collar and lifted him off the ground by his neck ... him and the rabbit in his mouth. The rabbit that was almost as big as him.
I've never liked dealing with dead animals in the yard ... birds, frogs, rabbits, mice ... never ever. I always made my sons do the removal on the rare occasions that a critter bit the dust in my domain. But I don't have sons at home anymore, and it was 6 a.m. and I had a wiener dog with the biggest rabbit in the universe clamped tightly between his teeth. For all my yelling at Ollie to drop the rabbit, he just wagged his tail and held on, very proud of his extreme hunting skill. I finally had to place Ollie and the giant rabbit on the ground and pry my little dog's jaws apart from around the poor rabbit's neck. And yes, I'll say it for you ... disgustingly gross. As the rabbit thudded to the ground when Ollie's jaws separated, I scooped Ollie into my arms and grabbed Julie by the collar and quickly took the dogs into the house. I turned Ollie around so that I could scold him and instantly thought I was going to hurl when I saw fur hanging out of his mouth and blood on the end of his nose. Yes, I'll say it for you again ... disgustingly gross. I picked the fur out of my wiener dog's mouth, put him in the tub and washed him, and then brushed his teeth. What a way to start the day, eh?
After I finished getting ready for work, I grabbed a couple of trash bags and a shovel, and headed out to the spot where Ollie had ended poor Mr. or Mrs. Bunny's life. Since most of you already think I'm crazy, I might as well tell you what I did next and cement that truth. I stood over the rabbit for a good 10 minutes saying, "Hey rabbit! You're not really dead, are you? You're just wounded ... go on and get up and hop away so I don't have to pick you up with the shovel. Rabbit? Rabbit? Rabbit? Are you listening? Are you really dead?" Yeah, yeah, yeah ... I know. When I finally determined that Mr. or Mrs. Bunny's lifeless eyes were indeed ... well ... lifeless, I began the process of trying to get him or her onto the shovel and into the trash bag and not puke while I was doing it. Then I spent another 20 minutes or so trying to decide what I should do with the recently deceased rabbit. My trash pickup was yesterday, and I knew that if I put the body in my trash can, it would be there for a week ... and it would smell. I thought about taking it across the street and placing it under a tree by the creek, but I was afraid a policeman would drive by and arrest me for the unlawful disposal of a rabbit body. I thought about putting it in the trunk of my car and taking it to the dumpster at my office, but I was afraid if he or she wasn't really dead, he or she might start thumping around as I was driving and I would most definitely wreck my car because I would be so freaked out. Tonight, Mr. or Mrs. Bunny is in my trash can with a couple of car air fresheners and a good dose of Lysol spray.
All day, I couldn't get the wiener dog vs. rabbit ordeal out of my mind, and it was late this afternoon when I realized that there was a huge lesson for me in what happened this morning. Here's the thing ... I was so angry with Ollie ... so, so, so angry. And the more I told him, "Bad dog, Oliver, bad, bad dog. We aren't killers in this house, buddy, no sir. Bad, bad, bad dog to kill the rabbit," the harder he wagged his little tail and the more he puffed out his chest with pride over what he had done. I was sitting at my desk when it hit me ... Ollie only did what was natural to him ... he was following his instincts and doing what was natural for him to do. Wiener dogs were originally bred as hunter dogs ... Oliver was doing what he was born and bred to do ... hunt. He didn't wake up this morning and choose to kill a rabbit; he woke up this morning and did what came naturally to him ... there was a rabbit in his yard, and he is a hunter.
The more I thought about Ollie and the rabbit, the more I wondered if the scene this morning was meant to remind me about sacrifice ... if the bunny's life was sacrificed in order to teach me a giant lesson ... to make me think about being who God created me to be ... about doing what he preordained for me to do ... about recognizing how short life can be. Mr. or Mrs. Bunny didn't know when he or she woke this morning and hopped into my yard that its life was about to end. Oliver didn't know when he woke this morning and went outside to pee that he would fulfill his calling to be a hunter. I didn't know when I woke this morning and began my normal routine that I would learn so very much from a wiener dog and a rabbit ... I surely didn't.
Rest in peace, Mr. or Mrs. Bunny ... rest in peace.
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