The tail of Ragnar

I could write a book about my history with rabbits. From the death of Johnny Depp while we were on vacation to the shooting incident with Prince there are quite a few stories to tell. But none would be sadder than the tale of our current rabbit Ragnar.

Ragnar is my fertilizer machine, and being a Norwegian he is quite good at spreading the fertilizer, if you know what I mean. From April through November he lives in a spacious cage with all the amenities down in my garden. He feasts on lettuce, cabbage, turnip leaves, whatever is green and available. Occasionally he is let out to free range inside the fenced in garden. He has a pretty good life.

 Then when cold weather, and the time change, hit, he gets moved to his winter home which is closer to our house. The cage sits below a plum tree, next to a bird bath, and right outside my kitchen window so I can wave to him in the mornings. It also reminds my feeble mind to go out and feed and water and talk to him. Yes, we talk. Well, I talk. He listens.

So all's been well this winter. In fact, I was outside last weekend and resupplied his rabbit hole/bedroom with dead grass and straw and shredded paper from work. He seemed safe, secure and happy. That was until this morning when I looked out the window while eating my toast and noticed everything askew in the rabbit world. The cage was still standing, but off kilter. The big dried up potted plant next to it was knocked over, as was the bird bath. The roof of his cage was in pieces. Yet Ragnar, ever the cool Viking leader, was nibbling on his pellets.

A similar thing happened a couple years ago and I blame a neighbor from down the road whose dogs get loose and rambunctious and take about terrorizing bunnies. I haven't seen them loose in a while, so I can't say it's them for sure but they are at the top of my suspect list. Just above coyotes, perhaps even a deer who came streaking through the area, or a small chance of a mountain lion. Though I'm pretty sure I'd be writing Ragnar's obit today instead if it were a lion.

Anyway, this morning, while I waited for my vehicle to warm up, I went about picking up the area. Fixing his roof and arranging his feeder and such, I noticed this furry thing on the ground. I figured it was some fur that went flying, as Ragnar has a nice puffy winter coat about now. But it wasn't that. It was his tail! I'm a guy who is oft accused of being cold-hearted and unfeeling, but not when it comes to my dogs or my rabbit. I felt terrible for him. It's like he had been violated. My guess is that when he was being attacked, he raced around in circles in his cage, as I've seen him do, and somehow his tail got caught in the wire. Ouch. Even worse would be if it was sticking out of the cage and something bit it off. Ew. He otherwise seems okay. There was no blood. But it did set off a pretty funny text message routine between myself, wifey and junior.

 It concluded with her asking: "Can rabbits live without a tail?"

 I suggested: "We do."