So yesterday we had a little incident.
We live in a subdivision with spacious lots and fields around one side. We have wild life. Lots of bunnies, squirrels, turkey and deer.
Yesterday Emma decided to play with a bunny. And she played a little too rough and the bunny was a little too young. Sad story but the bunny died. I think it was quick because it wasn't bloodied or anything.
I discovered it when Evie and I headed out the back deck last night while on our way to pick tomatoes from the garden. It was lying right next to the bottom step of the deck. I freaked. So gross! Just laying there with its little bunnies paws all still. I grabbed Evie and put her in the house. Looked at it again to make sure it was in fact dead (because earlier this summer we had a squirrel, that I thought was dead, move before John got back with the shovel. It was too badly hurt and suffering and had to be 'taken care of' by John, but anyway...)
SO I call John, who is out of town, because I swear every time I have an animal problem for him to take care of - he's usually out of town! Remember this lovely incident!?
Anyway, I tell him there is a dead bunny he needs to dispose of when he gets home. He was thrilled- I could tell.
Then the twins convinced me to give the little bunny a proper burial. So I grabbed a shovel, dug a hole and buried it.
I mentioned to them how I felt we were becoming a regular pet cemetery (because of the squirrel John dealt with, another squirrel that fell out of a tree a few weeks ago and now this bunny).
Well, last night we had a storm. And this morning the burial site looked disturbed. Not disturbed liked freaky, but disturbed...like something dug it up. Now I know it wasn't Emma...because she doesn't like the rain and was inside all night. And I'm not saying I believe in Pet Cemetery- I know it was just a movie, a freaking scary movie, but just a movie.
BUT I swear if a franken-bunny comes back and starts haunting us...I'm going to really not like that dog! Damn dog anyway!