Iona and Joe were invited to a sleepover to a friend’s house on Saturday evening. As we were to find out, it featured the fateful end of a wild rabbit that almost made us reconsider our move to rural French countryside.
On Sunday morning, very bleary eyed, they returned home.
‘Was it fun?’ I asked.
‘Too cool’, replied Joe. ‘Claude’s papa caught a rabbit in their garden. We weren’t allowed to hold it because it might have fleas.’
‘Where is it now?’ I asked.
‘In their freezer.’ Joe replied, searching for his transformer.
‘What, he just put it in the freezer?’ I asked getting somewhat alarmed.
‘No’, Joe replied, now getting a little exasperated with all my questions. ‘Claude’s papa hung the rabbit up by its back legs in the garage, took its skin off… do you know it all came off in one bit, and then took all its guts out, THEN he put it in the freezer.’
‘Did this upset you?’ I asked my eight-year-old son.
‘No, the rabbit was eating their vegetables.’
Iona slouches into the kitchen, ‘Did Joe tell you, there were 7 baby rabbits in the dead rabbit’s tummy.’
Aaaaaah… too much country living, we need to get back to a city.