Tell us about the rabbits, Ferrerman.

I looked out the window and saw the body of a rabbit in the street. Yikes. There's been one camped out by my air conditioner the past week or so. I went outside to have a smoke and check on him or her....

My little cutie was present and accounted for, hunkered down in a ball of it's warmth, wondering where the tasty green things were and who exactly had ordered all this white stuff.

Bunnies, like a lot of animals, don't have a lot of street smarts. Their defense technique seems to be playing statue when a Ferrerman appears. I can actually get as little as three feet or so away from one before he scampers off. Once last summer, one sat down next to me for a full five minutes. Whether the bunny felt comfortable by me or was too dang scared to move, we'll never know. But, we co-exist pretty good. I notice they like to eat the broadleaf weeds in the backyard and this is not a bad thing. Come Spring, i'll throw down some shade grass seed before the Maples get full. Why I need more grass to mow is a story for another day. It's the suburbs.... Nuff said?

This reminded me of a horrible day in Memphis, several years ago. Cop friend, David, knocked on my door one morning.

"Ferrerman", he said, "I think Josey Wales got run over".

Damn. Josey Wales was my part time cat. Like most free-range kittys, he had another family and I was used to him being gone for days and even a week at a time. Despite his wandering, he knew his name and, yes, he did answer to it. I admired his catitude. Though we had a few fights and I had even pulled my pistol on him and he had drawn blood from me, he was very affectionate. He was always out fighting and or fucking. A neighbor gal came a-knocking once and informed me that Josey had impregnated  their cat. I told her Josey wasn't gonna pay child support! She kinda took me serious at that and explained that she had only meant to offer me a kitten. I thanked her but passed on that.

So, David and I walked to the entrance to the complex. Though smashed, I recognized his gray/white coat. David set up orange cones and while I shoveled up the remains, he called the city. It was a fucked up day.

I was in the habit of looking out the backdoor for Josey (and checking for criminal activity) and it hurt every time I did that the rest of the day. That afternoon my buddy, Kip called and I told him what had happened. As I absentmindedly opened the door, in ran the Josey Wales, meowing, cussing me out for taking so long! I told Kip he was back and hung up. I ran over to Josey and hugged his kittycat self.

Of course, he had no idea of the hurt I had felt that day. He's a cat, ya know. You just feed them, right?