Adios! Timmy-Tim!
I went out at 7:30 am to "feed the stock", as usual.
I reckon you can take the boy out of the country;
no one will ever take the country out of the boy.
Seven years ago, our three lovely little girls decided
that they wanted a "rabbit" for a pet. Since I am Santa
Claus, and since I love my girls (completely), I schlepped
together some scrap wood and set to build a rabbi hutch.
Of all the "pets" we had entertained over the years, somehow,
we had never had a rabbit. We took the "3-Musketeers" to the
monthly "bird swap" at the county fair grounds where they
purviewed the long-eared offerings, finally, at long last,
settling on a solid black mini-Rex which they promptly
tagged "Timothy"; we took him home. What a rabbit!
Over the years, the trio of girls grew from 6 and 8 year
old children into "young" ladies; they still adored "Mr. Timothy"
but found other interests; I inherited "Timmy-Tim".
When the trio visited, they got Timmy out of his
hutch and played with the bunny on the picnic table
and in the lawn; they even had a wire "yard" cage.
Once, 3 to 4 years later, I accidentally left the hutch door
open and Timmy got out. We found Timmy-Tim a few
houses down the block, a leg bone protruding through
a hind leg; Becky doctored him back to health.
Over the years, Timmy and I grew close; I fed him
and he let me pet him and talk to him and Candy's
doves, in another cage next to him. In the winter months
both cages were kept in the shed on our property.
Today, I got Mr. Timmy's breakfast of carrots ready
and went to his cage which we had just moved out
for the summer. The doves usually wake me with their
morning chatter by 6 am; today, they were quiet.
I approached Timmy's hutch and noticed that his water
bowl was near empty; he had been drinking a great deal
of water for about two weeks; I thought it was just the heat.
As I unlatched Timmy's door, I said, as I always do,
"Mr. Timmy---" My breath caught and I stopped as
I spied Mr. Timmy-Tim laying still with his head in
the food-grain ditch. Timmy had met his final end.
Our girls decorated a nice box for Timmy with his
name in large black letters, drawings of carrots
on a side, a heart---a most loving tribute!
I wrapped my long-eared "buddy" in a towel and
laid his still body in his box; Becky gently laid
another towel over him. We dug a deep hole and
respectfully laid our dear "Mr. Timmy" to rest.
Between the oak tree and a red bud tree, we placed a
large white limestone rock over him as a marker.
I gave the stash of carrots to the girls for the horses.
I think Timmy would have appreciated that.
Adios! Mr. Timothy! Thanks for the kind memories!
no one will ever take the country out of the boy.
Seven years ago, our three lovely little girls decided
that they wanted a "rabbit" for a pet. Since I am Santa
Claus, and since I love my girls (completely), I schlepped
together some scrap wood and set to build a rabbi hutch.
Of all the "pets" we had entertained over the years, somehow,
we had never had a rabbit. We took the "3-Musketeers" to the
monthly "bird swap" at the county fair grounds where they
purviewed the long-eared offerings, finally, at long last,
settling on a solid black mini-Rex which they promptly
tagged "Timothy"; we took him home. What a rabbit!
Over the years, the trio of girls grew from 6 and 8 year
old children into "young" ladies; they still adored "Mr. Timothy"
but found other interests; I inherited "Timmy-Tim".
When the trio visited, they got Timmy out of his
hutch and played with the bunny on the picnic table
and in the lawn; they even had a wire "yard" cage.
Once, 3 to 4 years later, I accidentally left the hutch door
open and Timmy got out. We found Timmy-Tim a few
houses down the block, a leg bone protruding through
a hind leg; Becky doctored him back to health.
Over the years, Timmy and I grew close; I fed him
and he let me pet him and talk to him and Candy's
doves, in another cage next to him. In the winter months
both cages were kept in the shed on our property.
Today, I got Mr. Timmy's breakfast of carrots ready
and went to his cage which we had just moved out
for the summer. The doves usually wake me with their
morning chatter by 6 am; today, they were quiet.
I approached Timmy's hutch and noticed that his water
bowl was near empty; he had been drinking a great deal
of water for about two weeks; I thought it was just the heat.
As I unlatched Timmy's door, I said, as I always do,
"Mr. Timmy---" My breath caught and I stopped as
I spied Mr. Timmy-Tim laying still with his head in
the food-grain ditch. Timmy had met his final end.
Our girls decorated a nice box for Timmy with his
name in large black letters, drawings of carrots
on a side, a heart---a most loving tribute!
I wrapped my long-eared "buddy" in a towel and
laid his still body in his box; Becky gently laid
another towel over him. We dug a deep hole and
respectfully laid our dear "Mr. Timmy" to rest.
Between the oak tree and a red bud tree, we placed a
large white limestone rock over him as a marker.
I gave the stash of carrots to the girls for the horses.
I think Timmy would have appreciated that.
Adios! Mr. Timothy! Thanks for the kind memories!
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