Linette says not to worry – the part will go to the Easter Bunny’s understudy, the Easter Squirrel.
[This photo is courtesy our friend Patty in Chicago’s sister’s friend. It’s his dog. Please don’t use the image to traumatize kids, unless they are deserving of such trauma, as we all know many kids are.]
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I, however, thing that the rules of succession are clear. It goes to Punxsutawney Phil. He’s due for a promotion.
My dad always told us that our house was the last house on the Easter Bunny’s route and that they had to replace the bunny every year because my dad would catch him and eat him.
That explains a lot, srah….
… If I only had a picture of my boss’s dog (also a lab), Cody, when she came up from the bottom of the gravel pit (where my co. office is) wearing a deer’s ribcage as a hat– With fleshy bits still dangling. EEWWWWW!
I think E. Howard Hunt was involved…(gee, this comment fits every post!)
I used to hunt rabbits in Kansas with a pack of greyhounds led by a greyhound-woldhound alfa male. They’d run circles with the rabbits, the he’d go in for the kill. They’d all trot easily back to the truck licking the rabbit fur from their noses. For dinner back at the farm, we’d toss cut-up chicken parts over the pen fence.
This is a fabulous photo and I’d like a copy.
See also the April issue of National Geographic with a little photo essay of a female jaguar and her young daughter who learned to hunt by getting “live” fawns as gifts. She killed a female baboon and then discovered the baboon had a baby. The teenage jaguar took the baby up into a tree and slept with it, keeping it warm as long as she could, but the baby died. She left the baby up in the tree, then sauntered off to begin her own life. The photo of the jaguar snoozing with the baby baboon is quite precious.