The Bunnys Tale by george uhall 7-2-2008 To Geoff: Thanks for reminding me of the Bunnys tale. . .

My fathers approach to child rearing was pretty much a hands-off approach. He would stand on the sidelines, occasionally providing some fatherly, coaching advice, but never interfering with the process of me making my own mistakes. He rarely, if ever criticized or yelled. When things would go south, I would often hear him say, What went wrong?, or How can you stop it from happening the next time? Not once did he ever berate me for being stupid. And, looking back on my years with him, I did some pretty stupid things. One such incident occurred on one of those endless summer days when there wasnt much of anything to do. I was sitting in the shade of our fenced in yard contemplating whether I had enough courage to go see what Sara was up to when I noticed a bunny was munching at my mothers garden patch. Now normally, I would shoo the varmint away and go on with other things, but this time I had no other things to do. So, I sat still enjoying the show of a cute brown bunny with perky ears decimating my mothers cabbage. The bunny, mindful of me watching him, but sure of the distance between us sat content, munching away on the nearest cabbage leaf. Being a teenage boy with a devious mind it didnt take me long to formulate an evil plan guaranteed to increase my viewing pleasure. I had an old tomcat named Snowflake. Snowflake started out a pure white short hair mongrel cat. He was a big cat, not huge like some Maine Coon cats Id seen. But, he came close in size to our local wild southwestern bobcat. And, it was a good thing he had the size, because my parents insisted that Snowflake was an outside cat. And, being an outside cat he was often required to guard and protect his territory from those bobcats and even an occasional coyote or two. Many a night, I had heard Snowflake in a showdown with someone. Whether it was a wild animal or a neighborhood rival, it all ran the same course. First, came the ungodly bellowing of a pissed off Snowflake. His warning trumpet was a cross between a guttural growl and a banshee scream. When he let go his warning to the approaching threat, my skin crawled. Now, depending upon who he was yelling at this caterwauling would last seconds or hours. Most wild animals wanted no part of Snowflake and quickly exited to the calm expanse of the desert. But, if his intruder was another neighborhood tom that had aspirations on one of Snowflakes harem queens, well we knew we were in for a miserable night. If the rival was persistent, eventually, the two combatants would mix it up. The ensuing battle noises were murderous to the ear.

Spitting snarls, sharp high pitched barks and growling were delivered at an unbelievable staccato rate. Snowflake in close combat would wake up the entire neighborhood. Battles of this nature knew no limits. No quarter was given by either party. Snowflake and his rival were trying to kill each other, it was that simple. No one could come between those two gladiators. If one was foolish enough to try, you stood a good chance of losing a large chunk of skin and maybe an eye or two as both fighters would attack you just to get to each other. Once the battle was joined, the only recourse was the garden hose. On more than one occasion, I can remember my dad hosing down Snowflake and some other tom in order to bring peace back to our small community. These battles had not been kind to Snowflake. Over the years he had lost the tip of one ear and several square inches of fur. His tail was also bent funny about two thirds of the way down where he had suffered a vicious bite. But, I loved that cat. When I petted him, my hand would run over the scars of countless battles and he would purr. He was a great cat. So, it was Snowflake that I thought of as I watched that bunny enjoying the cabbage my mother had lovingly nursed into existence. Snowflake would make short work out of that cute fuzzy bunny. In fact, Snowflake must be lounging around inside enjoying the air conditioning otherwise the bunny would already be toast. I looked inside and sure enough, Snowflake was curled up in his spot on the couch. The big hairball was fast asleep surely saving himself for the nights activities. Come on big boy, Ive got a friend I want you to meet, I told him and gathered him up in my arms and carried him outside. Snowflakes meet-and-greet with the bunny was over in less than a second. As soon as Snowflake spotted the bunny he flew out of my arms, bee lining it to the rabbit and the rabbit took off, high-tailing it to his escape hole in our chain link fence. But, the rabbit hadnt counted on Snowflakes speed or his smarts. Snowflake spotted the escape hole and adjusted his attack profile to head the bunny off. In the blink of an eye, it became evident to everyone involved that Snowflake would arrive at the hole before the bunny. The bunny was cut off. And, Snowflake? He was a heat seeking missile, hot on the tail of Mr. Bunny. Oh, I had gotten everything I had hoped for. The bunny was not as fast as Snowflake in the straight-a-ways, but he could corner on a dime and he managed to stay out of Snowflakes grasp by jinking and jibing this way and that way all over our yard. The duo ran right past me several times. I cheered Snowflake on at the top of my lungs. The three of us were making such a racket we caught the attention of my father sitting inside trying to reading his morning newspaper. I notice him calmly watching the proceedings through the sliding glass door. I wasnt too worried about Snowflake killing the bunny. After all, I was pretty sure I could get to him before he killed the rabbit, but what happen next, I was totally unprepared for. The bunny must have been tiring as the chase continued because Snowflake was

coming closer and closer to latching onto him as each second passed. Twice, Snowflake had managed to hit the bunny so hard he actually bowled him over. The bunny, in desperation, decided to make one last fatalistic attempt at freedom. He tried to go through one of the small holes in the chain link fence. He hit the fence with all his might, but the holes in the fence were only a few inches wide, just barely big enough for his head to go through. His head made it to the freedom side of the fence, but the rest of his body belonged to Snowflake. Stuck in the fence with his head poking through that small hole in our chain link fence, the bunny was trapped. Snowflake was on him in a millisecond, I was on Snowflake a second or two later. Gathering up Snowflake was no easy task, but with some difficulty I did manage to get him off the rabbit and back in the house. He wasnt even too mad at me for calling it off. He just went back to his spot and started his after-fight ritualized washing up, licking his paw and then rubbing it behind each ear. My dad came over to me from the sliding glass door where he had been looking out over the yard and said, So, what do plan to do about the rabbit stuck in our fence? What? was all I could say. The rabbit you and Snowflake have been chasing all over the yard. Hes stuck in the chain link fence. What are you going to do about it? I looked out the sliding glass door and sure enough the rabbit was sitting at the fence with his head stuck. Occasionally, he would try to extract himself from the fence, but from the looks of things, he was stuck tight. Jokingly, I said, Ill bet he never goes near moms garden again! Then I added, Ill get him out of the fence. That wont be easy, my dad said. Hell fight you every inch of the way. I hadnt thought about that. Wild animals have wild instincts and my dad was right about him fighting me. That bunny wouldnt just stand still and let me butter up his head so I could slip it out of the fence. Maybe you better just let him alone, my dad said. In a day or two, hell get weak enough that you can do something for him. Or maybe he will just work himse lf out. I thought that over. That wont work. The neighborhood dogs or a lone coyote would make mince meat out of the bunny long before a couple of days would pass. And, as for the bunny working himself out of that fence, one look at his comic efforts to extract himself from the fence didnt give me much hope that he would be successful. Naw, I said. Ill get him out. It was then that my dad let loose with one of his life nuggets. Of course, he didnt call them that, he didnt call them anything. It was just his nature to occasionally pull out one

of his little snippets of wisdom and plant them on you like they were gospel carved in stone somewhere. I think he expected you to take these words of wisdom to heart so they could guide your life through troubled waters. He said, Surely you must know that you cant teach a pig to sing, youll just end up frustrating yourself and aggravating the pig. Huh? I thought to myself. That made absolutely no sense. As I turned to go back out in the yard and free the bunny, my father added one more piece of fatherly advice, Go get my heavy leather gloves and put em on before you do anything stupid. Ok, now that bit of advice made perfect sense to me. I once tried to give Snowflake a bath when he was just a kitten and the experience taught me a very important lesson: Any cheesed off critter can do some pretty significant damage, no matter how small or how cute. As I headed toward the shed to retrieve dads gloves, I noticed the bunny was slowly quieting down. He wasnt panting anymore and his struggles against the fence seemed more directed, less irrational. But, I also noticed he still had his mind set to go forward. There was just no way that bunny was going to squeeze his body through that tiny hole in the fence. He wasnt getting out of the fence that way. Thinking back on it now, Im sure I must have been quite a sight. I was smallish for my age and my Dads gloves fit my hands slightly better than a brown paper lunch sack would have. And even though I had grown up around wild animals, I had never actually touched one alive, let alone crazy and desperate. The thought of coming into contact with this particular mad rabbit was not too appealing. So, there I was inching my way up to a rabbit stuck in our fence with the equivalent of a baseball glove on each hand, crouching low, every muscle tense, ready to spring into action. And sure enough, action was required. As soon as the rabbit sensed my presence he went into his frenzied plan of escape. He kicked, he lashed wildly, first left, then right and sideways in a frantic effort to get out of that fence. Of course, he got nowhere, but he did scare the daylights out of me. And, unfortunately I noticed his thrashing around had some dire consequences to him too. Little bits of fur were torn off his neck by the wire making up the fence. As I looked closer, I noticed there were tuffs of fur on the ground and some fur was even stuck to wire itself. I also noticed some blood. I felt sick. I backed away, far enough away that the bunny stopped thrashing around. But, he was panting again, his poor little chest was expanding and contracting at a rate much too fast. Looking at this helpless creature, I felt my own sense of panic creeping into my conscious. What could I do? I think it was then that I realized if I didnt get him out of

that fence, he would die. Ill rush in and grab him, I thought to myself, quick and clean. Then, with him securely in my hands hell calm down when he sees Im there to help him. And then, I can get his head out of that stupid fence. It seemed like a good plan, it was the only plan I could think of. So, with all the determination I could muster and my own heart pounding so ferociously I swear I could actually hear it beating, I rushed in. I think I got my hands on him, if only for the briefest of moments before he kicked me away and at the same time sent one of dads gloves flying across the yard. I had completely underestimated his strength. It didnt take me long to figure out he wasnt going to ever sit still with me holding him. Even with his head stuck in the fence, he was not defenseless. Those back legs of his were lethal weapons. I beat a hasty retreat to my previous spot, just far enough away that the bunny didnt feel threaten. Once again, he slowly started to calm down. I looked behind my shoulder and spotted dads glove it was at least 10 yards further back from where I stood. That bunny is strong! I thought to myself. If Snowflake had ever actually caught the bunny, I wasnt too sure he would have enjoyed the ride. I think that rabbit would have given Snowflake the one-two and flung him about as far as that glove had gone, maybe even further. Surely, the bunny had to be getting tired, I know I was. We had been at this thing for some time now. And, I reminded myself, we are no closer to getting that bunny out of the fence. I analyzed the situation again. The problem was that rabbit only operated in one of two modes. He either barreled ahead as fast as he could or he sat relatively still trying to catch his breath. Then it hit me. That dumb rabbit always went forward! He never tried to back out of the fence. That revelation lead me to my next obvious observation, he never backed out, because he was afraid of me. Gawd, I was so stupid, any idiot could see that! Once I saw the whole scene from an outside perspective, the solution to this predicament was clear. All I needed to do was go outside the fence and scare the bunny into reverse. Piece of cake. I said congratulating myself. As I walked toward the back gate, I picked up dads glove. I wont even need these things, I thought to myself, I wont even have to touch that flea bitten varmint. Ill just scare him out of that hole in the fence. In short order I was in front of the bunny. For the first time, I actually stared directly into his eyes. He was kind a cute with those large brown eyes, but I could clearly see the panic and fear in his eyes as well. We stood, eye to eye for a brief moment looking at one another, then I rushed in, screaming and yelling and waving my arms like some big bird swooping down to attack him. As soon as I started my rush, the bunny kicked into panic escape mode. Only this time

he did make an effort to retreat. But, his efforts were still thwarted by the fact head was securely clamped in the fence. Now, he thrashed even more wildly to the left and right desperately looking for that spot where his head would pop out of the fence and he could get away from me. He never found that spot. When I was about five feet from him, I heard a soft pop. It wasnt much of a sound, but I had heard that sound before when I had fallen out of my tree house and broke my arm. I knew what it was, and my heart just stopped. The bunnys movements took on a completely different nature. They became spasmodic, totally uncoordinated. Instead of working to extract himself from the fence, his tiny limbs just jerked aimlessly. I stood there, in front of him watching, unable to turn away, my eyes locked on to his. As the jerking slowed, then stopped. I watched the life in his big brown eyes fade away replaced by a soft gray film. I was numb. There was nothing inside of me. I took the last step between the bunny and me and with one quick kick popped the bunnys head back through the fence. It was over. Nothing left to do. Then I saw my dad standing at the sliding glass door. Obviously, he had watched the whole thing. That bum, he just stood there and did nothing this whole time. And as quick as that, the void inside me filled with anger. I threw his gloves on the ground and marched right up to him. I killed the rabbit. I yelled. I see that, he replied calmly. Why didnt you help me? I was so overwhelmed with emotion that Im not too sure the words got out. But, it didnt matter, my father knew what I had said, and he knew exactly what I was feeling. He swallowed me up in his arms and held me tight for a few moments while I my body shook from me trying to hold back the tears. Maybe I could have done something for the bunny. He said. But, more than likely, the bunny would have ended up dead even with my best efforts. Thats why I gave you the best advice I had. But, when I saw you were determined to save the bunny, all I could do was let you go. That was pretty much the only thing I could do. What advice? You didnt do nothing! I tried to tell you to leave it alone. The worst thing you can do in life is try and help someone that doesnt want your help. That bunny didnt want your help. I remember tearing myself away from him and running to my bedroom. I wanted nothing more of him or anything he had to say. I must have cried myself to sleep and slept the day away, because the next morning the bunny was gone, the gloves were back in the shed and you wouldnt have even know anything momentous had taken place at that spot in the fence. There wasnt a single trace of physical evidence of the emotional

wound I suffered the day before. I never did ask what my father had done with the rabbit and he never again brought it up. Now, I would like to tell you that this incident taught me the lesson my father intended it to teach me. But, sadly on its own it wasnt enough. Numerous times in my life I completely ignored my fathers teachings and stupidly tried to help someone who didnt want my help just because I knew they needed my help and I knew it was the right thing for them. Take the time my sister-in-law was getting married . . . well. . . thats another story. Suffice it to say that eventually I caught on, and now, whenever Im tempted to push my will on someone I think of that summer day. And thats the bunnys tale.