Tomb Stones

Between us, Sweetie and I have buried three bunnies since Friday.

The first was one of the five babies - he asphyxiated in a burrow, snuggled up behind another baby. That one was almost gone, too, but was revived and survived. Nobody ever said that bunnies were the sharpest knives in the drawer, but at least this little dumb one went to sleep to never awake.

Whilst I was in Franklin, Quentin of Wry Neck passed on.

Also whilst in Franklin, Stubby's hindquarters were somehow affected. Either he was injured or was somehow ill. Today the town dogs broke his neck because he couldn't move fast enough. This was just after a phone conversation with Sweetie about whether we should cage the Little Warrior or not. Damn. Stubby was a love and I cried hard.



Tomorrow, we build a fence. I am ashamed that we are such slack asses that it takes something like this to get us motivated to build the fence that we have planned to erect for at least two years.