The Pretty Rabbit

Spring came almost as suddenly as Daisy when she first showed up on my territory.  It was still cold and wet.  But it offered a slight warmth which my heart welcomed with relief and gratitude.  The other animals came out of hiding during the day.  I've learned to identify many scents and used this skill to my advantage.

The first time I ate a rabbit, I didn't do it in the right mind.  The opportunity presented itself to me and I seized the moment almost without thinking.  I had just opened my eyes to watch the sun rise in the start of a new day.  My nose twitched to a scent that made me want to bay.  Something was moving, almost dancing, in my yard.  It was a pretty rabbit.  The kind that makes my current human smile when she sees it.  It was plump.  And fluffy.  It hopped across the grass as if it had no idea which patch to eat.

While I lay there in the dirt I watched its ears turn at the sounds of birds chirping.  I saw its eyes, expressionless as it scanned the yard.  It hopped closer to me without paying me any mind.  Suddenly my heart hammered behind my chest and my belly cramped in hunger.  I felt my mouth moisten in saliva. 

Before I knew it I was devouring the rabbit.  It happened so fast.  I don't even remember when I attacked it or how I did it.  All I remember is how good it tasted as it filled my mouth.  The pain in my belly seemed to take over.  And then something dreadful happened.

The boy intervened.  His hands came at me from nowhere.  He was hitting me and yelling "Stop" at the top of his lungs.  But I didn't stop.  I couldn't.  I kept eating it.  The boy's cries filled my ears and it only made me eat it faster.  It wasn't until later when he was crying at my side that I realized the hurt I instilled in him.  Whimpering, I leaned forward to lick his face so I could offer comfort.  But he shoved my face away with tear-soaked hands.  His pain confused me.

I wasn't trying to hurt him.  Didn't he see I was only hungry?  Didn't my humans know that when they tied me outside I couldn't just sit there in my few feet of freedom and die of starvation?  Why did it hurt this boy that I chose to live?  As he wept, I realized he had more sadness for the death of this fat rabbit that was free to eat whenever and wherever he chose than he did for me, his own dog, who had no other choice but to fend for himself.

I decided then that the rabbit was worth it.  But I still loved the boy.