Today started with what might be considered a small trauma. To one unfortunate bunny, it was the end of a very short life, therefore extreme trauma.
I was washing our few breakfast dishes when Gary came back into the house and called. Sam the Siamese cat had a rabbit, and it was hurt.
Grabbing garden gloves to protect against what, I didn’t know (against being bitten? getting blood on me?), I strode out to the still form under my truck’s rear bumper. The poor creature was breathing hard and sort of sprawled out. It didn’t struggle as I picked it up, and Gary immediately noticed that it had a hole in its side right through to the abdominal cavity.
Surprising even myself, I announced that I would deal with this, and promptly euthanized the victim with ether. It took only a whiff, a tiny puff from the can. I felt sad, but at least the baby wasn’t suffering for long after we found it.
Damn cat. I wish cats would differentiate between dirty little mice (who are also cute, I admit), and lovely birds and benign bunnies. I wonder if Sam could have been blamed for a dead grouse in our yard a few weeks ago; a grouse might not even have the sense to get out of harm’s way. Makes me wonder if my guinea pig is safe to graze in an outdoor open-topped enclosure where I have been placing her on fine days. I had only been diligent about seeing that dogs couldn’t prey on Taffy and didn’t even consider the cats.
After I helped the small rabbit “into the next world”, I attended a meeting in our town. The purpose, I thought, was to brainstorm about the crises in our province of widespread wildfires. I imagined that we would all start a list of services and phone numbers and locations for help for evacuees from the fire-affected areas.
One person took charge, and there was a lot of action, not simply exchanges of ideas! But I am a defensive and ornery person who does not take direction well. One of my friends, Mabel, was told, “YOU are in charge of FOOD!”. I noticed that Mabel seemed quite taken aback, so at the first chance, I told her that I would help with that.
Leaving Mabel and others to figure out coffee making and such, I stated that I would get supplies, go home and make 18 bunwiches, and get back in an hour. My excuse for not staying to work or play well with the others was that I had to watch over dogs.
Everything fell into place, as they say: I made twenty sandwiches before I ran out of ingredients, and while I worked I thawed and heated chili, and took that lot back to the community hall.
Others had made some open-faced sandwiches and fresh muffins had been brought. Coffee and tea were ready, and some evacuees had actually found the “Comfort Centre”, as it is dubbed.
I don’t know how the rest of the day went. Someone else in McBride has made a spaghetti feast for this evening. Many people want to help if we can find who needs it. I told some of the folks “in charge” that I could be back with soup, or baking, with short notice.
I have plenty of work lined up this week otherwise. Aside from dog care, there is no end to the yard work.
It’s good to stay busy. A friend of ours was killed in a head on collision last Tuesday. Gary and I socialize or hang out with very few folks, and yet we care about and consider many our friends.
“Dewey”, the fatality in an accident that was not his fault, has been known to me for at least 25 years, but has been in the Valley longer. He was the husband of a friend, and the brother to another local gal whose friendship and company I treasure. For Dewey’s partner and family and the whole community, the loss is unbearable. As his sister Vonda said, “Everybody loved Dewey.”
For weeks and months, we have lost acquaintances and friends from in and around McBride and far away, seemingly in extraordinary numbers. Causes have been everything from illness to advanced age to suicide. It hurts our hearts and seems alarming.
Since I have no helpful wisdom or philosophy about all of this, I should quit talking and get back to work. Or perhaps I am done for the day… I wore myself out trimming trees, pulling a few weeds, and that sort of thing, all since the short bun making session of the morning.
Yesterday I helped fetch hay for our horse and Shelly’s goat (after which Shelly served a beautiful meal for us!), and I think I’m still tired.