Why I am going to hell:
For those of you who know me, this may seem like a no-brainer, but let me fill you in on something that happened recently.
Mental Picture:
Me driving home one lovely evening after enjoying a spectacular bottle of pinot noir with a good friend of mine. I am enjoying the burgandy glow of its effects while chatting on the phone with the LOML. I am rounding the bend on a lovely little tree-lined side street when suddenly, and to my absolute surprise, a cute little gray bunny leaps out from the brush by the side of the road and attempts to hop/scurry across the street. Yes, I said "attempts".....
To my shock and absolute horror I slam on my brakes and try to avert the inevitable disaster. Sadly, it is too late. RIP mister bunny.
I am screaming into the phone, "oh my gaaaawd!" to the bewildered LOML who, by the tone of my voice and the timbre of the screech, can only assume that I have been in a terrible, debilitating, horribly disfiguring automobile accident (he hates when I talk on the phone and drive....) You can imagine his relief when I tell him I have hit and killed a small woodland creature, so I can excuse his laughter and him jokingly calling me "bunny-killer", but I am still very rattled, nay, on the verge of actual tears as I replay the terrible instant that the bunny's eyes met mine in a frightened and bewildered query of bunny-speak "what the f*ck!!!????"
This was maybe a couple weeks ago. The next day I contemplate going back to get the bunny carcass and performing a rites-of-passage death ritual for the poor smooshed thing, but as I am a bit lazy I decide not to.
Oddly and disturbingly enough, since then I have been experiencing a recurring dream where I am standing across from a bunny (THE bunny?) and I am looking at it, it is looking at me and then it turns slowly and hops away.
Am I going crazy? Is this purely symbolic of some unresolved issue of repentance or forgiveness that I am harboring in my subconscious psyche? I hear "bunny killer!!!" echoing in my head.
So, in an effort to alleviate myself of these disturbing and macabre dreams I will do the following:
- I swear not to use my mobi while I am driving on that street again, as it may have hampered my reaction time.
- Clearly there should be a sign erected that says "bunny x-ing" or something so that in the future no more small fuzzy bunnies will be murdered by VW or any other vehicular means. I will see what I can do about that....
- I have also prepared a short poem:
Ode to Bunny, by L. Marie
OOOOOhhh mister furry bunny,
How I mourn thee,
Your fuzzy feet are apparently not so lucky,
After all.
Mental Picture:
Me driving home one lovely evening after enjoying a spectacular bottle of pinot noir with a good friend of mine. I am enjoying the burgandy glow of its effects while chatting on the phone with the LOML. I am rounding the bend on a lovely little tree-lined side street when suddenly, and to my absolute surprise, a cute little gray bunny leaps out from the brush by the side of the road and attempts to hop/scurry across the street. Yes, I said "attempts".....
To my shock and absolute horror I slam on my brakes and try to avert the inevitable disaster. Sadly, it is too late. RIP mister bunny.
I am screaming into the phone, "oh my gaaaawd!" to the bewildered LOML who, by the tone of my voice and the timbre of the screech, can only assume that I have been in a terrible, debilitating, horribly disfiguring automobile accident (he hates when I talk on the phone and drive....) You can imagine his relief when I tell him I have hit and killed a small woodland creature, so I can excuse his laughter and him jokingly calling me "bunny-killer", but I am still very rattled, nay, on the verge of actual tears as I replay the terrible instant that the bunny's eyes met mine in a frightened and bewildered query of bunny-speak "what the f*ck!!!????"
This was maybe a couple weeks ago. The next day I contemplate going back to get the bunny carcass and performing a rites-of-passage death ritual for the poor smooshed thing, but as I am a bit lazy I decide not to.
Oddly and disturbingly enough, since then I have been experiencing a recurring dream where I am standing across from a bunny (THE bunny?) and I am looking at it, it is looking at me and then it turns slowly and hops away.
Am I going crazy? Is this purely symbolic of some unresolved issue of repentance or forgiveness that I am harboring in my subconscious psyche? I hear "bunny killer!!!" echoing in my head.
So, in an effort to alleviate myself of these disturbing and macabre dreams I will do the following:
- I swear not to use my mobi while I am driving on that street again, as it may have hampered my reaction time.
- Clearly there should be a sign erected that says "bunny x-ing" or something so that in the future no more small fuzzy bunnies will be murdered by VW or any other vehicular means. I will see what I can do about that....
- I have also prepared a short poem:
Ode to Bunny, by L. Marie
OOOOOhhh mister furry bunny,
How I mourn thee,
Your fuzzy feet are apparently not so lucky,
After all.
posted by Elle Dub at 11:41 AM
3 Comments:
Be relieved: if you had hit a PERSON you'd be going to jail instead of the special bunny-slaughter corner of hell.
I once accidentally killed my fish in what had to be the most gruesome way ever (apparently chlorine burns the skin off Japanese fighting fish). I was so traumatized by the incident that my roommate had to pour me a drink to still my hysterical sobbing and then dispose of the ruined carcass himself.
So at least you can feel better about not having slaughtered your own pet.
That is so wrong B. But good to know. Japanese fighting fish and chlorine do not mix. I'll file that little tidbit away for later since now that the pup is gone I will need to explore other pet options.
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