Baby Bunny Dragging Cat Wearing Nikes Paused While Pondering

Did you ever wonder what a cat dragged in? It’s a common phrase generally used to described an unsavory person or thing or maybe someone you haven’t seen in while. I no longer wonder. I know about cat dragging and not because a cat has dragged me. It would take a few cats to drag me anywhere including in, and even more or possibly less if I’m high on catnip. Catnip is a crazy trip. Not that I’ve been on a crazy trip lately, though I have been away, and not just from  my real home, but my virtual home, too.

I’m just back from my stint as a lonely goatherd on twenty acres about thirty miles from almost civilization. It was quite a comfy stay as I had some good satellite movie channels (if it wasn’t raining too hard) and a screened in pool to help me pass the time. I had very poor cell reception and a slow internet connection, so I didn’t spend much time online. I did manage to read a post here and there.

And while I didn’t spend much time reading online blogs during the previous 5 weeks, I did spend much of my time between having to herd goats out of the barn in the morning and then herd them back in the barn at night, a complicated process that only trained goat herders should attempt (I’m exaggerating, I just had to open a gate each time and then I had to close the same gate I had opened. While it wasn’t difficult, there was an order that had to be followed.); I read. I read 5 Time magazines, 4 National Geographic magazines, one issue of Prevention magazine and about half of the latest issue of the Smithsonian magazine which is why I know that the first documented use of  @ occurred in 1536 and @ was about to fall by the wayside of common usage when some dude that worked for a company with BNB or BBN or something like that in the title (I didn’t say I retained everything, just enough to make me sound like I might know a little something about something)) used @ to separate a specific recipient out of a group of possible users at the same web address and now @ is quite the popular symbol about the web, and 10 books. (Apparently, I haven’t lost my weird craving for run on sentences and parenthetical asides, though I’m not typing out of the sides of my fingers.)

Besides the goats, of which there were nine, and I’m happy to say I didn’t lose a goat to a coyote probably because of my superb goat herding skills, I also had to feed Dazzle, the Arabian, of the four-legged variety, and Bo, the donkey. There was an odd dynamic going on between  Bo and Dazzle. There may be some unresolved past issues that Bo is holding on to or it could have something to do with Dazzle’s passive-aggressive tendencies. You could come up with lots of scenarios and dialog possibilities while watching those two pasture-mates. I know, because I would as I sat on the porch in the early evening hours watching the two of them.

Besides the goats, of which there were nine, and the Odd Couple of the pasture, there were two cats. Minnie is a very skittish kitty that likes to hide under the beds. She would occasionally come out to be brushed and get cat treats, but mostly, I would catch a glimpse of her as she sprinted from one bedroom to another. Then there was the cat I  like to refer to as the James Bond of cats because he looks good in a tux, has a license to kill and is always up for some physical affection, and he is the dragging cat of the title, though mostly he just carried things in his mouth, but more about that later.

If you’ve been pondering the pros and cons of installing a pet door that will be used by a cat, keep in mind, that cats are predators and they will bring you presents of their kills and sometimes their kills aren’t quite dead or even a little dead. Also keep in mind that your cat, taking full advantage of his swinging door to the great outdoors just might bring one of those presents and deposit it on the pillow next to you as you are sleeping. Whether you rate pillow deliveries of cat presents as a pro or a con depends on how you feel about pillow deliveries of cat presents. I tend to think that pillow deliveries of cat presents falls somewhere between mildy distressing and heart stopping on the surprise-yuck factor scale. While there is no denying the appeal of the adrenaline rush, the residual yuck factor puts it in the con column for me on the do I need a pet door installed question. Of course that is a silly question for me since I don’t have a cat. I just wanted anyone who might be on the fence about it to know about the potential upon awaking to discover a dead mouse or frog or almost dead lizard or a screaming baby bunny (yes, they scream because I’ve heard one scream – it is seared in my brain) on the pillow next to you. This is probably even more distressing if you sleep with another person on a regular basis. The dead thing might be on his or her face. It would definitely increase the yuck factor, as opposed to definitely decrease or definitely remain neutral on the yuck factor. Something to think about, but not the definitely part, because that is definite.

The James Bond of cats carried 2 crickets, 1 grasshopper, 2 frogs, 1 mouse, 2 tailless lizards or the same tailless lizard 2 times, 1 giant flying thing (I didn’t look too closely, I was just trying to get it out of the house), and 1 screaming baby bunny, though the baby bunny wasn’t screaming when the cat carried him. through the cat door. The baby bunny screaming came later. One of the crickets, the mouse and both frogs did not survive the encounter. I’m not sure about one of the crickets as its rear legs seemed not to function that well and the giant flying thing, though when last I saw them just beyond a door, they were still alive. One of the lizards  and the baby bunny only made it through the first cat door from the great outdoors to the screened pool enclosure.

They didn’t make it through the cat door that goes from the screened pool enclosure to the house. But not getting in the house isn’t why the baby bunny began to scream, at least I don’t know that for a fact. I don’t speak baby bunny. I didn’t even know they could make any sounds, let alone that awful screaming sound. But even if baby bunny was a language we could learn, I wouldn’t learn it. I just have no need as I rarely find myself in the company of baby bunnies, or bunnies of any kind. Don’t even get me started about the Easter Bunny’s despicable hoarding of dark chocolate with almonds bunnies.

At least, that is the only explanation I have for the failure of the great and powerful Easter Bunny to leave a dark chocolate with almonds bunny at my house for the past few or many years. Okay, I have never received a dark chocolate with almonds bunny in my life (I do realize that ‘in life’ is redundant since I used ‘never’ earlier in the sentence, but I like the way it sounds) and perhaps, they don’t make them, but if the Easter Bunny is great and powerful, he should be able to make a dark chocolate with almonds bunny for a true believer and faithful follower who would then share it with me. And by share I mean give me most of or all of it because even though he is a true believer and faithful follower, he is also one of those fitness fanatics who goes to a gym regularly, and not because he has a job as a janitor there. No, he works out. And he only eats healthy stuff so he gives me any dark chocolate with almonds stuff he gets because he knows even though I toy with fitness fanaticism, it hasn’t quite taken hold and I still give in to my dark chocolate with almonds cravings and sometimes ice cream cravings and the occasional slice of Boston cream pie, but not all at the same time.

The Easter Bunny distracted me from the screaming baby bunny story and maybe that’s what the Easter Bunny is supposed to do, but maybe instead of distracting, he should be saving those screaming baby bunnies. Because that’s what I had to do. When I saw the James Bond cat carrying this small animal about the size of a squirrel but with a tiny tail and freakishly long ears come through the cat door on to the screened pool enclosure, I paused for a second.

“Sylvester!” I exclaimed, hence the need for the exclamation point. I know I’ve been calling him the James Bond cat but his name is Sylvester and if I had exclaimed, “James Bond!” he wouldn’t have known I was exclaiming to him. So I used Sylvester in my exclamation. And Sylvester dropped the baby bunny. The baby bunny scampered off. I know baby bunnies are known for hopping, but this looked more like a scamper.

The baby bunny stopped scampering and began to hurl its little body at the screen. It would bounce off and then hurl again. I may have made it sound more dramatic than it was. The baby bunny kept running into the screen.  As it made yet another attempt to run through the screen, I scooped the baby bunny up in my hands. There was a little blood, but it wasn’t mine. As I was trying to determine how serious the injury was, the baby bunny began to scream. It was a horrible sound – a very loud EEEE! EEEE! kind of sound. I was shocked as I didn’t know bunnies could make noises which I may have mentioned in a preceding paragraph. So I do know now, but I didn’t know then.

I did get the baby bunny calm and quiet by stroking its head whispering to it. That last sentence didn’t end up the way I thought it would, but it is an interesting arrangement of words. I found some dense shrubbery and I released the somewhat calmed baby bunny or as calmed as a baby bunny can be after being in the jaws of potential death by James Bond cat, then scooped up in these hard, yet soft appendages of a giant being that is hundreds of times its size. I’m not a math person so my estimation of the relative difference in size between a baby bunny and a vertically challenged human is just a shot in the dark, although the lights are on. But in any light, that’s a lot of stuff to happen to a baby bunny  in the space of fifteen minutes. Most baby bunnies might not survive such an ordeal, but this one did.

Okay, there is no evidence that the baby bunny survived. But there is no evidence that he didn’t survive. It’s the kind of ambiguous bunny talk that starts religions. It is a bit strange how we think anyone who comes up with their own brand of the true path to God and then recruits followers is a bit loony like those Nike wearing people a few years ago, and yet many of us claim to be religious, does that mean we’re a bit loony?  I just want to be clear that I don’t think all Nike wearing people are loony or recruiting anybody, unless they are paid Nike spokespeople, then they are recruiting customers.

So much to ponder when pondering the merits of installing a cat door, And if you are indeed, pondering a cat door, I hope I have pondered in ways you hadn’t pondered. If you  don’t share space with a cat, the pondering on this post probably was not helpful. But one day, you may meet a cool James Bond cat and decide to share living space and then he’ll be all slinky, rubbing up against you while wistfully gazing at the great outdoors just the other side of the screen. Just remember the sound of the screaming baby bunny. That EEEE! EEEE! sound that you really can’t appreciate unless you have heard it, but your imagination should be able to approximate a most horrible sound. That’s the sound of a license to kill or at least attempt to kidnap and relocate inside of the house to a James Bond cat and that cute little cat door will lead to screaming baby bunnies on your pillow. Cat doors are a menace.

I may have exaggerated a tiny bit. But not about the horrible sound of a baby bunny scream. It really is a shockingly horrible sound. I was shocked and a bit horrified but then I was a soft kind of awwww inside because I saved that baby bunny. Again, I don’t know if the bunny still lives, but I like to think so. I like a bunny tale with a happy ending. I think that’s what makes it fuzzy.

I know you were hoping for a picture of a screaming baby bunny, but I don’t have a picture of a screaming baby bunny. So here’s a picture of the James Bond of cats relaxing after the misunderstanding with the screaming baby bunny.

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19 thoughts on “Baby Bunny Dragging Cat Wearing Nikes Paused While Pondering

  1. The sound of a screaming baby bunny is indeed something one never forgets. At around age 8 or 9 I opened the back door early one misty morning and saw a perfectly tiny baby bunny nibbling grass in the yard. I crept up silently behind it and, like you, scooped it up only to have the quiet, calm of the morning shattered by the most horrible screams I had ever heard (or maybe the only screams I had ever heard since my childhood was pretty mellow). Unlike you however, I did not attempt to soothe the little feller but immediately dropped it instead convinced that I was somehow killing it. As cute as they are I’m still a little hesitant to pick one up even now because I pretty much never want to hear a bald eagle’s shriek emanating from a fuzzy little Easter ball of fluff ever again.

  2. Unfortunately, I’m very familiar with half dead baby animals being brought to me as presents. Ugh!
    I blame the cat door for all that loss of life. It’s just so convenient when you’re out all day. When you come home and find some kind of woodland creature flayed for your enjoyment it makes you sick. James Bond! Haha!

  3. OK, that is a seriously James Bondian cat — Sean Connery (humorless) vintage. So I would skip the door. Because he will always be bringing in ladies and bunnies and other undesirable creatures. And their entrails will forever be in your kitchen. My late sister had one of those doors and frequently got up and stepped, barefooted in mouse intestines. Her mantra for the rest of her life was that the day was good as long as she didn’t start off by stepping barefoot into mouse intestines. Her life was sadly cut very short, but I don’t think that the mouse intestines factored into it. But better to be safe.

    Holy cow. I think you wrote my comment!

    • I think the next time someone tells me their day got off to a bad start, I’m going to ask them if it started by stepping in mouse intestines. It will give them a whole new perspective or maybe just pause. (I think you did a wonderful job channeling me while writing your comment!)

  4. There is no wildlife in our back garden since we brought in our brutish Tom from the cat sanctuary. He is currently eyeing up my octagenarian neighbour. Nice to hear from you again!

  5. The last time I herd goats they said “Maaaaaaaaa.” Or it could’ve been “Baaaaaaaaa.” They have lousy diction.

    • One of the goats I was herding sounded like a human with Tourette’s, but the others were mostly “Baaaa” and “Maaaa.” I think goat is a language only other goats understand.

  6. I love animals and I hate to think of them suffering. My dogs killed a raccoon last summer in my backyard – it screamed like a human – by the time I got dressed and got out there, it was too late to save it…one of the worst sounds ever..

    • It is astonishing how powerful those awful sounds can be. A few years back while on safari in Kenya I heard a pack of hyenas kill and feast on a wildebeest. I say heard because it was very late at night and I was awakened in my tent by the sounds. The hyenas were across a small ravine from our campsite. I’ll never forget the anguish in the wildebeest’s cries right before they ceased. The baby bunnies cries were not quite as anguished but there was a palpable sense of fear in them.

  7. “I don’t always bring things through the cat flap. But when I do, I prefer to leave them on the pillow.”
    He is the most interesting cat in the world.

    I only hope the delightful goat herding memories (wherein you read magazines and books and sit on the porch)(and herd goats)
    Aren’t ruined by the Bubby screams.
    Now that you know they can make noise, perhaps next time Sylvester cab gently herd 4 of them to you, and you can train them to be the premier acappella group for Easter music?

  8. Pingback: Refrigerator Thought Tomato Fluffer Inappropriate But The Mouse Was Appreciative | sandylikebeach

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