Of man eating rabbits and such...

When I was a kid, my dad would take me out walking around the countryside on slow, boring days. We would hunt mushrooms (the regular flavor not the ones that you discover later in life), shoot cans & fenceposts, skip rocks, build rodent snares..... In this way I was taught all the survival skills my father had to join the army to learn.

One one particularly nice fall day, we were walking along a small ravine, more of a ditch between corn fields really; but being about eight feet deep, it was a ravine to a small boy. It was littered with the various signs of our modern, disposable society; old broken washing machines, car tires, handleless buckets, and the occasional bathtub. At one point in our trek, we came across a piece of heating duct leaning against the side of the ditch so that one end was at the bottom of the trench, and the other stuck up to about my waist level.

As we approached, a rabbit ran into the low end of the duct. Never ones to pass up an opportunity to capture an animal with our bare hands, we quickly descended on opposite ends of the tube. Dad at the bottom, and me at the top. The duct, about ten feet long, was too long to just reach in and grab the rabbit. We tried banging on the sides in an effort to scare it out. Unfortunately, the rabbit was not swayed. He stood fast inside the tunnel. We tried poking it out with a stick. No luck.

Standing there thinking, my pop lit a cigarette. He always did this when there was deep thinking or heavy lifting to be done. As the fire flared in front of his face, he got an idea. We could smoke it out. He began stuffing his end of the duct with dry leaves and grass. As he was doing this, he told me what my part of the plan was. I would stand at the high end, waiting. As the rabbit ran out, trying to escape the smoke and fire, I could simply grab it. It sounded pretty plausible to me. I could just grab it. I could just grab it with my hands. I would have to be a complete idiot to be way out there with something like a net....So I would just use my hands.

As Dad started the fire, I stooped down over the opening, waiting for lunch. Dad fanned the grass and leaves to help it heat up, poking more dead grass in on top of the fire. The extra grass starved the fire of oxygen, creating thick choking smoke, which he then blew up the chimney of the near vertical piece of duct. Yeah....That fucking rabbit was toast.

He warned me that the rabbit would most likely be moving pretty fast as it ran from the tube, so I should lean in a little closer to the opening. That way it wouldn't have any escape path around me. As I leaned in closer, I thought I saw a grin flash across my dad's face.

YEAH. I thought. He's excited too. I leaned in as close as I could.

By now smoke was coming out my end of the duct. Any minute now....You're fucking as good as dead Buggs.

The smoke was stinging my eyes now. I could hear the rabbit start to move around now. Surely he was choking even worse than I was. And getting pretty hot too. My eyes and lungs were on fire now. The end of the tube faded in out of my vision now as I tried to squeeze the tears from my eyes.

Dad had retired back a few feet from the fire. To better see the capture.

Suddenly, it seamed like the entire world screamed out . I could hear the screeching, squealing, fluffy little ass on fire sound of a rabbit in flight for it's life. As the flames and smoke dealt its worst to us both, the rabbit made its move. The only sound I could hear was Buggs' long, razor sharp, predator toenails sliding and screeching up the tube like Freddy Kreuger's knife-fingers along a chalkboard. As it moved up the duct, it was constantly sliding back down. Only to increase the paralyzing terror in both of our hearts. I knew it was coming. I leaned in closer. My eyes and lungs were on fire. Now I could smell burning fur. I could see its eyes coming at me now.

OH FUCK THIS THING IS COMING FAST!!!

BAMMM!!!! It hit me so hard in the chest that I was thrown to my back. The rabbit, still running, sliced my chest, neck, face and head with its nails as it used me as a springboard to life. It didn't even slow down as it passed.

It took Dad a few minutes to breath. He was so distraught at my predicament, that he burst into some kind of hysterical, fear induced laughter. It was the strangest thing. Like hysterical blindness I suppose. Out of concern for my safety and well being, he could not function. Sometimes, when panic sets in, a person can do the strangest things to cope with fear.

My dad laughed. Hard.