Saturday morning- June 9, 2007, I woke up to find Peter under our pear tree. I knew instantly that our dear 8 year old rabbit had died in the night. It was perhaps the way he was lying. The drizzle matched my spirits as I took a plastic tray to the back yard. Imagine my horror when I discovered that he was attacked. His fur was ripped and left all around the pear tree. Rigor mortis had already set in when I carried him. I scrambled to find Pico, the 4 year old daughter bunny of Peter's. She was found on the opposite side of the back yard, suitably under three benches of dancing posies. I could barely speak when I saw our sweet Pico with her throat open.
Sadness never felt so heavy. Knowing that these timid pets didn't know how to defend themselves nor needed to fear any predators only made the morning's discovery that much more gruesome. I should've put them back into their cages. I had thought that they would enjoy their freedom now that summer has arrived. So many times, I had seen them sit right in the middle of the backyard in the morning after rubbing noses or chasing each other. But no more.
I learned an important lesson that day. I no longer look at cages are mere restrictions. They can be a place of protection against harm and danger. The only comfort I have felt was from having both of them go at the same time. Strange as that may seem, leaving one behind would only make it feel that much lonelier.
Myron is doing okay. We've held our guinea pig MoMo tightly the past week.
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