The Bunny Poop Trilogy: The Final Chapter

The other night my husband was away, so my friend J invited the kids and me over for dinner. It was a lovely, unseasonably warm evening. We ate out on the porch, and several times, out the window, I saw my friend L ride by on her bike, doing laps around the block, training for a race. It was beautiful: nice weather, and the feeling of being (almost) surrounded by friends in a neighborhood. I was feeling like maybe everything (i.e., living in this city; raising my kids in this neighborhood) was going to be all right. After dinner we were going to go finally get the long-awaited and much-discussed bunny poop. 


So we drove over in L's truck, J, L, and I. The bunny lady met us in the garage. She introduced us to a foster bunny she was taking care of because he had the sniffles and couldn't be in the shelter. His name was, I think, Jupiter. She told us about a funny trip to Rite Aid to get him medicine, and how that was the first time anyone at Rite Aid had filled a prescription for a bunny.


So we all stood outside in the twilights and talked about the weather and birds and chickens and farms and stars, and then we each went home with a bag or two of manure to put on our gardens. I was really looking forward to adding it to my garden the next day. After the whole long bunny poop saga, with the bread, and the celiac disease, and the emails to the neighborhood group, and the neighbors with families to take care of, I thought I was finally reaching a happy ending. 


There I was. I dumped it out, spread it around and then quickly emailed L and J:

Just threw the contents of the bags on the garden. It's a little different than last year. Lots of hay and lots of bunny food and very little poop. After all the trouble this poop has caused me, I can't imagine why I would be surprised about this. Honestly. There were also a few other things like tootsie roll wrappers and cardboard tubes and twist ties. Then, just at the end, after I had spread it all over my beds, I found, I swear to god, a syringe. A syringe. Seriously?! SER-I-OUS-LY!!?? I mean, there was no needle on it. And it must have been from the bunny's meds, right? RIGHT?! But I just stood here starting at it. I mean, come on! A syringe has got to be one of the very last things, short of maybe a human hand, that you want to find in your garden. Please tell me you think this is from Jupiter's meds, and not, you know, anything else. 

Wtf! I give up.