Thursday evening I went to the garden to see what needed to be done. As I was walking the rows, I heard a buzzing sound. Then I saw it: a dead rabbit, lying between the green bean rows. Flies were buzzing all around it. I yelled, "YUCK. There's a dead rabbit out here."
I heard Pop-Pop chuckle. "I reck'n he got 'im."
While my husband got the shovel and disposed of the rabbit, Pop-Pop explained that my brother-in-law had taken a shot at a rabbit the night before, but thought he'd missed it. Apparently not, eh?
Since then, Pop-Pop has seen "a mangy 'coon" out there in broad daylight, and I have seen a couple more rabbits. In fact, just yesterday when I was out there running the tiller, I saw one run for the woods.
Tonight, the husband and I walked down to the garden to see if any beans were still standing. My brother-in-law was there, eating supper with the folks. After the table was cleared, we all migrated to the back porch. Brother-in-law reached behind the back door and grabbed the shotgun on the way out, just in case any varmints showed up. Several minutes passed. I said, "They're probably on the back side of the garden, living it up where we can't see them."
Brother-in-law dropped a shell into the shotgun and eased toward the south end of the garden. He'd only taken a few steps in that direction when he stopped, raised the gun, and fired. BLAM!
I kinda felt sorry for the poor little fluffy-tailed b*stard.
But not too sorry.
No comments:
Post a Comment