Julitis 4, 41 A.B.

Two roads diverged in a back yard garden, and I -
I took the road less patrolled by guard dogs,
studded with land mines, 
and lined with electrified fences,
And that has made all the difference.
(Well, 94% of the difference, anyway.)

- Robert Frosted, "The Road Less Protected"
(Edited by the Truth in Poetry Society)

OK, So Here's The Deal...

     I know it's the Glorious Fourth and I should write something patriotic.  I know I should at least take the time to explain how I consider the entire area of this month an acute inflammation of the year (hence my name for it).  I know I should have written long before now and not let three whole days come between my mind and your eyes.
     But you have to understand -

     Ok, that's not really true.  That's a slight exaggeration.  I have (truth be told) exactly one rabbit.
     But from the way it's eating its way through my life, you would swear it contained multitudes!

     It arrived... I don't know anymore, days ago now.  It didn't phone ahead.  It didn't ring my bell.  It just... you know... CAME, alright?!  Silently and... hungrily.
     My life has not been the same since.
     Each time I look out my window, another few plants are gone.
     Each time I close my eyes and try to sleep, outrageous munching sounds reverberate all through my head.
     I haven't slept in days... maybe weeks!
     I haven't been able to take my eyes away from my window except to go to the bathroom, shove some food into my face, and cyber with a faraway Ukrainian chick in desperate need of some Western assistance.
     Today I gave her the bad news: Events necessitate a drastic reduction in the amount of aid I've been providing.
     If it comes down next to having to choose between food and the bathroom, I just don't know what I'll do....
     Get a bigger modem, maybe?

     I've tried to be calm, cool, and collected about this rabbit.  I've tried to be a rational human being and all.  
     I've let the rabbit catch glimpses of my disapproving body language.
     I've whispered gentle hints through my window screen that I'd like him to stop and move on.
     I've joshingly referred to the dangers of overeating food you have no intention of paying for. 
     Yesterday I openly admonished him.
     Today I tried heatedly condemning him.  When that didn't work, I opened my door right back up and tried some tearful pleading.
     Still he sits and eats up my flowers.
     Still he wiggles his nose at me, then chews on - exactly as if my disapproval were merely an act.
     If he's still there by the end of the week, I'll simply have no choice - no choice at all - but to sit myself down and come up with a new plan....

     I'd send him an angry letter, but I don't know his address.
     I'd slip him a book on manners, but I can't decide if rabbits prefer hardbacks or paperbacks.
     I've already - just now! - tried reverse psychology, but yelling out my back door "Eat all you want!" has only drawn applause from my neighbors.
     I've tried - just now! - outright appeasement by putting a complete selection of bottled salad dressings next to my prized gazanias, but he only keeps eating and eating things raw.

     I'd just called the cops, but they'd probably just laugh at me like that time I called to report the sun peeking through my bedroom window.
     I'd ask Jester to help me out, but he's pretending to be asleep.  Again!
     It's all like some awful episode of "The Twilight Zone" or "The Outer Limits," only the alien just happens to have a fluffy white tail instead of ray guns.
     Come to think of it, it's just like a drawing I once did in the '80s...
     A nightmarish drawing I entitled "Existing In The Shadow Of A Bunny Under Glass."
     Only instead of being a small, biomorphic abstract standing forever paralyzed in the shadow of a gigantic bunny under glass on an endless, empty plain, I'm practically under the glass WITH the damn thing!

     I'm sorry - I gotta go.
     The munching seems to be getting closer!!

Back To A Sane Past
I Didn't Appreciate Until It Was Gone



Forward To Whatever May Come
(Provided It Hasn't Been Eaten!)


(©Now by a random biomorphic abstract sitting in for the, 
umm, "vacationing" Dan Birtcher)