2009: a hawk swooped down and took out the daddy bunny, leaving in its wake of its carnage, two little bunnies and a momma bunny who had to explain to the little ones why daddy wasn't coming home that night.
2010: 4 little bunnies arrived a week or two ago. As late as yesterday afternoon, they were growing and seemed to enjoy the lettuce, carrots and celery our boys brought them each morning.
Then, something happened; something mysterious and horrible. I found two of them dead, a third was still breathing but immobile, and hungry bugs were surrounding it.
Of course, I couldn't leave it there to suffer a slow death, but I didn't know the most humane way to end its suffering.
Should I put it in the garage and turn the car on?
Should I put a little piece of plastic wrap over its head?
I still have an unused bottle of Vicodin left from a recent injury.
Perhaps end it with a small pocket knife whilst whispering, "shhh, shhhh, shhh" like in Private Ryan?
You will be happy to know that I finally did what I had to do.
RIP little fellas.