Monday, August 15, 2011

Cats and Rabbits

Late Saturday night, after I'd lain down to bed, I heard a man's voice, screaming horribly in the distance. I sprang from the floor without a thought, tore open my doors and bolted outside barefoot. I heard a second scream, which struck my ear as less urgent, but still distressed, and closer. I moved toward the path that runs past the dead end of my street, straining my senses through the night to find out where the trouble was. But then some asshole on a bike rode past and, no doubt seeing me tense and wild-eyed, said "Sorry, that was me shouting, did you see a bunch of people go by here on bikes?" I told him that I hadn't. I'd seen nothing again.

Tonight, I had my rabbit outside, where it found a nice, comfortable spot beside the lilac bushes next to my front door. I sat on my stoop less than three feet away, but because I was out of the line of sight, my rabbit was attacked by a cat. When I saw him tackled clear across the sidewalk and heard him scream, because as it turns out, rabbits can do that, I shouted "NO" at the top of my lungs and ran at the cat, scaring it off. I rarely make so much noise. So later on, while I was inside checking the rabbit's fur for blood and doing my best to calm it down, it occurred to me that while I had shook the branches of the tree above me with just my voice, none of the several neighbors that I have in earshot opened their doors to see what might be wrong.

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