One sad bunny tale
The bunny had joined the work crew. As the farmer and his son slogged through the recent days of hot and sticky weather, the bunny was always there. Climbing down from their painting scaffolds, the men would see the bunny sitting at a safe distance, watching. At times, their furry friend would come closer for a look, and the farmer would talk to him.
“Or her, I don’t know, I didn’t get close enough,” the farmer said.
I would see the bunny some evenings as I headed across the front lawn for my walk. When only the tops of his ears and rump were visible as he hopped along, I knew it was time to mow the lawn.
And then yesterday, this.
“Howard chased the bunny across the back yard,” the farmer said as he sat at the kitchen table. He had come down off the scaffold for lunch. I got the feeling this wasn’t just another Howard story.
“He just killed and ate half our bunny. I think he’s a little bit sick now.”
The farmer saw it happen.
Howard, being a Wheaten terrier, has always chased bunnies and squirrels and birds. He’s hard-wired for it. But until yesterday, we hadn’t seen him catch and kill one.
People with cats see it all the time. My cat-loving friends tell stories of their pets hunting and killing birds or mice and carrying them back to the house, to be presented at the threshold like wrapped gifts.
Wheatens, like all terriers, are farmer dogs bred to hunt and kill vermin. Maybe Howard saw the bunny as a threat.
Howard has protective instincts. He sleeps most nights on the floor at the foot of the bed and in the morning, paws open the door to wander downstairs. Recently, I’ve noticed that he will paw open the door to position himself there and look out into the hall. He’s watching and listening for something. Intruders, maybe? Bunnies?
He lost his front yard privileges when he couldn’t stop himself from barking at dogs passing by on their daily walks. The smaller dogs didn’t incite the bullying – just the bigger ones.
Howard and his little sheltie sidekick, Smoothie, had been seen chasing the bunny in recent days. Smoothie was doing it for fun. Turns out Howard was being driven by a more menacing thought. His instincts told him to run the vermin off. And then his wolf ancestors whispered: You caught him. Now go ahead and eat him.
Afterward, Howard spent a few hours eating grass and leaves, probably to soothe his stomach. He seems to be better now, although I look at him and wonder if he’s not confused about the whole thing.
Howard was doing what came naturally. That it was a friendly bunny makes it feel unnaturally cruel, and maybe a little bit sad. I’m just glad he didn’t bring the bunny back to the house to show me.