Mark was mowing the grass Sunday when he found Crystal, the neighbor’s one-eyed cat (he might have one eye, but he’s a fast little bugger), attacking a baby bunny. He chased the cat off, and we put the injured bunny in a box. We weren’t sure he’d make it through the night. But, he did. Hopper, his name given by Evan, even ate some lettuce and and pooped and peed (all signs that we thought meant we had saved him just in time). But, the day we were hoping to free him in Valley Forge Park, Mark found him dead in the box. Hopper succumbed to his injuries. We buried the poor little thing in our yard. Ashlyn marked his grave with a flower and said, “I’m going to miss him.” Then, the kids all ran off to play in the driveway before it got dark. Life goes on…even without Hopper.
Touching. But never start off a story that is clearly about the death of a rabbit with “Mark was mowing the grass…” Baaaad visual imagery.
oh. poor hopper. i had a little bunny just like that when i was about evan’s age. i named mine, Hoppy. :) he sustained an injury to his ear from the pin my dad made for him. he died a day or two later. apparently bunnies don’t handle injuries very well. :(