Tucker, my dog, is very finicky about going outside these days. No longer is he excited to go outside just to be outside. If he doesn't have to pee, he looks at me standing at the open back door and goes, "Eh." He also has this nasty little habit of running outside if Skip and I leave the house together and then proceeds to run between the fence gate and the front yard, dodging us as we try to grab him to put him back inside. He's a 70 lb. yellow lab/shepard mix, he's fast, and he's strong.
So instead of going out back after I get home from work, sometimes Tucker will join me in the front yard as I get the mail. He pees on the big tree in front, and comes right back inside. He'd rather just hang out with you than walk around by himself out back. Fair enough. Yesterday, same old, I go out to get the mail, and Tucker joins me. He goes out to pee on the tree, and the next thing I know I hear him scrambling fast, like he's chasing something. At first I get scared that he's about to run into the street, but then my worries stop as he's no longer running into the street, but he's caught something, has it in his mouth, and is running to the back fence gate so he can go out back and play with whatever he caught.
I'm almost 6 months pregnant, and I'm standing in the front yard, screaming at my dog, "Tucker, no!!" I run to the backyard to follow him, and see him just as he drops the poor thing he caught. A little grey baby bunny. No bigger than my hand. "Tucker stop!" But too late, he was already chasing after it again and caught it, again. The little thing almost got through the slats in the fence but it was just a little bit too big. Tucker caught the bunny again and was holding it in his mouth. Now I've got him by the collar and the scruff of his neck screaming "Drop it!! Tucker drop it!" He does, and it lays still where it lands. It takes all my might to keep Tucker from grabbing it again, and I drag him into the house and close the door. I go back to check on the little baby bunny. She is breathing really fast, and she's lying still, I tell myself she's just getting her bearings back, by the time I come back, she'll be gone.
I go inside to call Skip who is still at work. At this point, it's still kind of funny to me. My heart is pounding and Tucker is looking very proud of himself. I call Skip and tell him the story, and, while I have him on the phone, I go outside to check on the bunny. She's still there, except now I can see she is trying to get up. She is nudging her head and moving all of her legs, but something won't let her get up. She rolls over onto her side.
Enter pregnant Kate. I start crying. Hard. Poor little thing, she's trying so hard to get up. I don't know what to do, should I kill her and put her out of her misery? No way, I can't kill her. I'm too pregnant and emotional. It was hard enough killing gross little moles that Tucker had half-killed, no way can I kill a sweet little baby bunny. Skip won't be home for a couple hours. Should I call my dad to come do it? What if my neighbor's dog comes outside and gets a hold of her? Where was that bunny's mother? I start crying even harder. I decide to just go back inside and try to stop crying.
I've given myself a huge headache at this point, and I'm not speaking to Tucker. I go out a little bit later, and the baby bunny is dead. I don't know if Tucker broke her back, or punctured something internally, or just gave her a heart attack, but now she's dead and still. Poor baby bunny. I get very sad again, but leave to go run errands. Skip comes home while I am gone and takes care of the poor little baby bunny. I was too sad the rest of the night.
I gave Tucker a very stern talking to about picking on things his own size. I know he's a dog and he was following his instinct, but he needs to learn the lesson about fair fights. That little bunny didn't stand a chance. If Tucker catches a full grown adult bunny, that's one thing, but poor little baby animals aren't fast enough. It would be like me picking on a hamster.
I couldn't believe how upset I got. I've been weepy a lot lately. These pregnancy hormones are killing me.
Ugh, I am so irritable. I mean I am really cranky. Maybe it's because I'm not so crazy about my job right now. Maybe it's because I kind of hate my job right now. Maybe it's because I'm so tired. But am I so tired because I'm pregnant? Or is it because I'm not working out as much? Or am I so cranky because I'm pregnant? Ugh. Maybe it's because I've been to my doctor twice in two weeks and no one seems to know what is happening or why I'm there. My doctor actually said, after I told him it was me in the hospital last weekend, "Oh that was you?" Or maybe the two white trash pregnant ladies in the waiting room who reeked of cigarette smoke and kept talking about jail and bail and their cars getting repossessed and quitting their jobs and "bitch" this and "hoe" that and it really depressed me to know that these ladies were about to bring kids into the world and how sad it would be for those little kids growing up and then I saw the ladies in the parking lot afterwards and they already had a van full of kids. I felt very lucky and almost guilty all at the same time for being as "well off" as I am.
I'm probably a little bummed out too.