Mostly True Memoirs
The Perfect New Nickname
Blue created her own perfect new nickname.
I was drinking my coffee on the patio at 6:00 in the morning.
I kept the porch lights off so I could enjoy the lovely, pleasant dawn.
Blue was running around doing doggy things.
At one point, she approached me with a rope toy in her mouth.
Keep in mind that it was still dark and shadowy at that early hour.
Blue is an all-black dog, and I couldn’t see her well.
As she moved in closer, I could see her better.
I nearly screamed.
But I contained it because it was too early to scare the neighbors.
Blue was not holding a rope toy.
She was holding a rabbit.
A dead rabbit.
One that she had presumably just killed.
She was proudly offering it up to me.
Ewwww.
Ewww, ewww, ewww.
Gross.
My leg, still in a brace, was resting on the opposite chair.
My crutches were in the other direction.
And that rabbit was coming closer and closer and closer.
“Good girl, Blue. Drop it Blue,” I encouraged desperately.
Thankfully, she dropped it.
I hustled her into the house and hobbled in after her.
Now what do I do?
Is a dead rabbit a good reason to wake Bob up this early?
Luckily, he was already up.
He burst out laughing when I told him what happened.
I informed him that this isn’t funny.
Somebunny is not coming home for dinner tonight.
It’s a tragic moment for wildlife.
He laughed some more and quoted Elmer Fudd while he shoveled.
It’s the perfect new nickname for Blue – The Bunny Assassinator.
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