Mac apparently hates Easter. He tried to eat a baby bunny whole, length-wise, like he was in a hot dog competition. Relaxed-throat style. Luckily, I could tell it wasn’t poop he was ingesting and saved it. Go me for preventing future puked up bunny in our house.
It’s not dead, I swear. Just busted-looking.
I would say that the bunny should be grateful, but unfortunately, I think its legs or back is broken. We found two others, loaded them up in a shoe box, and transplanted them on the other side of the yard, where the dogs can’t get to them.
Luckily, being blind comes with the benefit of not seeing your busted brother who is sharing the same shoebox as you.
Brent (My step-dad) said that the Mommy Bunny should find them and will cart off the healthy ones and if the busted one is going to die, Mommy Bunny will abandon it. Dead weight, I guess.
That makes me think, Mommy Bunny would have been good at Oregon Trail back in the day. I wish you could just dump family members that have dysentery. Like seriously people, wash your hands and stop getting dysentery. And while we’re at it, does Little Billy have to break his leg or arm every time we go on The Trail? Also, why do I have to do all the hunting and fishing? That shit is hard. What are the rest of you doing? Lying around, having dysentery?
Rude. Mommy Bunny would have left your asses back at the last fort.