This Root Beer is "Big Daddy Size."
Current mood: tested
Yesterday, I had the gleeful opportunity to make friends with 2 adorable baby bunnies whose hole was in the little garden plot right outside my mom's back door. I was sitting on the stoop having a smoke when they saw me with their wide, innocent eyes, and instead of burying themselves back in their cozy home, they came outside, tame as can be, and proceeded to scamper and nibble, until one, who I affectionately coined "Foo-Foo" sat right by my foot. I let him smell my hand, which he did, and life was good. Soon after, they returned to their hole, their mommy already most likely gone, until I came out for another smoke, and they came back to visit. By this time, the whole family was "awwing" and "ooohing" and the bunnies showed nary a smidge of fear.
This nary a smidge of fear probably was their downfall, for this morning, I received a teary phone call from my mom that both of the baby bunnies had been killed (and worse, mangled) overnight. It fell upon me today to clean up their tiny remains and deduce that it was all a part of nature, though if I get my hands on the squirrel who was probably responsible, I'll show him why it's dangerous to play in the street. My mom neglected to mention that one of the baby bunnies WAS MISSING IT'S HEAD this morning, which made the bunny burial all the more disturbing. R.I.P., Foo Foo.