Last Winter Gracie's bunny Cocoa, went to heaven. She tried to ecsape the less than well-built pen that I made, and......... well........... she didn't escape. Luckily, big brother was the one to make the discovery and we were able to tell Gracie in a "gentle" way. That doesn't mean she didn't take it pretty hard. She still keeps Cocoa's water bowl on her bedroom dresser. She still talks about Cocoa.
I am thankful that we still have Cookie the bunny. However, I must confess..... I've now dread the death of Cook every since.
This, my friends, will be the last bunny on Rocky Ridge Farm for the following reasons.
#1. My daughter loves having bunnies, but doesn't really like feeding them.
#2. I'm the mean mommy who makes her feed them.
#3. Bunnies do not have long lives.
#4. My little Miss Em. doesn't deal well with sad things (see #3).
#5. I do not deal well when Miss Em. is sad.
So..... this is our little story.....
Cocoa died during one of the coldest periods of Winter 2011. The ground was froze. It was BITTER cold.
We could not bury Cocoa.
So, I put him/her (We will never truly know the sex of either bunny because
#1. we are bunny idiots and
#2. even if the bunnies were boys, Gracie would still insist they are girls.
Boys were NOT AN OPTION!!) in a large rubber tub.
So, last weekend was especially nice outside. Gracie gently reminds her mother (that would be me) that we STILL HAVE NOT BURIED COCOA!
Lord have mercy!
Gracie wanted Cookie to be present at the service. We locked up the dogs, placed a collar around Cookie's neck and tied her leash to a nearby post.
So, I dug a hole and buried the bunny. I need not tell you that this bunny had went to bunny heaven at least THREE MONTHS ago. It wasn't pretty! Blah, I'm gagging as I write this.
Cookie was unmoved by the whole situation. She thought that this seemed like a perfect opportunity to grab some fresh greens. But nonetheless, she was there, and that is what mattered.
After Cocoa was placed in the ground, Gracie and I decided that we would say a few words. I told the story about how Cocoa came to live with us. It would have been a nice story, except I kept calling Cocoa, Cookie. Gracie was getting irritated and I felt terrible that I couldn't get my brain to recall the right name. The more I tried to remember Cocoa's name, the more I failed. It was not my finest moment. By the time I was done speaking, I couldn't remember my own name.
I did redeem myself by letting Gracie pick out a memorial stone to place on the grave.
Guilt usually produces deep pockets.
I've already begun preparing Gracie for when Cookie leaves us. As I mentioned above, bunnies do not live long. Cookie is in bunny years, a very old lady.
This is somewhat off the subject, but....... isn't Cookie attractive for an old lady? I must say that she has pickled well!