Day 1
Well, this blows chunks. Here I am, less than a year old, and Mother gone. Fuckin’ Man.
Not many visitors in the morning, but after noon the whole rabbit mishpocha arrives.
”Shiva?” Thumper’s cousin Hopper asks. “Sitting around and doing nothing for a week after somebody croaks?” How can Hopper not see Frog, like, right across from him? If looks could kill, the glare Frog gives Hopper would have the Rabbit family sitting shiva, too.
Aunt Ena brought some choice buds to nosh on. The Pheasants brought a bunch of shoots. Mrs. Raccoon, a nice spread of small nuts.
Day 2
More animals today, as word gets out, paying respects and all.
Ronno shows up mid-afternoon. Tells me he’s sorry, which is decent of him, but then says, “I didn’t know you were Jewish.” Thumper says, “Yeah, I didn’t know you were an ass-hat.” That shuts Ronno’s pie-hole for a while.
Speaking of lacking info, Mother never told me her name. I’m sort of in the dark about Father’s name, too. Everybody calls him “The Great Prince of the Forest,” but is that an honorific? If he were, like, deposed or something, would we call him The Buck Formerly Known as The Great Prince?
Aunt Ena and Faline here again. Hadn’t really noticed Faline since late fall. That fawn is all grown up.
Hopper chattering away so much the Squirrels are giving him the side-eye.
Later, after Ronno leaves, Thumper says, “I was lying. I always knew Ronno was an ass-hat.”
Mr. Mole showed up early–to be fair, almost bedtime for him–with a tasteful worm platter. Again with the roots, this time Mrs. Quail. Aunt Ena brought a nice selection of early-season berries.
Day 3
So many questions. Were Mother and Father separated, or even ever together? For all I know, it was wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. Or, I guess, wham-thank-you-ma’am-Bambi.
I know I’m supposed to know the names of all these folks coming by, but shit, I have a feeling that Voles can’t tell themselves apart from each other, either.
Faline’s back. There are worse things to look at. Like Mr. Chipmunk. No wonder the dude makes himself scarce; those aren’t nuts in his mouth, that’s a fucking goiter big enough to have its own goiter.
Hopper’s blathering on about anything and everything, really getting on everybody’s nerves. Read the room, rabbit, read the room.
Aunt Ena’s coordinating the food–looks like today was the Rabbits’ turn.
Day 4
Visitors thinning out a bit. It’s early spring, and animals gotta make a living.
Flower comes by–pretty early for a skunk to be out of hibernation, and he’s cranky, but it’s nice to have him here.
But then Ronno shows up again, and the whole time he’s here, keeps checking out Faline, not even really trying to hide it. Dude, have some decorum. Although he’s not wrong, Faline’s looking pretty fine these days.
Friend Owl gives Hopper a stern look for the gazillionth time this week. Or maybe Friend Owl’s face always has that expression? ROF: Resting Owling Face.
Mrs. Raccoon brought some kind of tasty orange brown root thingies. Mrs. Possum brought snails. And I don’t say this out loud, because that would be rude, but, not kosher, Mrs. Possum, literally not kosher.
Day 5
Faline is around just about all day today. I’m wondering if a sympathy fuck would be out of the question. Can’t blame a guy for thinking about it.
Father finally shows up, for all of like, ten minutes. Does his usual silent alpha male shit, then hits the eject button. That’s it. Absentee Dad. On the other hoof, Hopper, that brother never shuts the fuck up.
Is Friend Owl, like, anyone’s actual friend? Maybe his name’s ironic, like Little John, the Queen of Hearts, and Prince Charming. “Charming,” my ever-loving hindquarters. Having a conversation with that clown is like trying to relate to peat moss.
Mr. Mole and family with a big bundle of roots, good quality, surprising variety; great with a shmear.
Day 6
Thumper says his distant cousin Peter Cottontail overheard Farmer McGregor’s dogs talking about what happened to Mother. “What’d they say?” I ask. Thumper makes air quotes with his front paws, “Thoughts and prayers, thoughts and prayers.” Fucking typical.
Speaking of cousins, Aunt Ena is Faline’s mother, which makes Faline and me cousins. So, would it be out-of-bounds for Faline and me to do the nasty?
Mrs. Squirrel brought a few choice buckeyes. Mrs. Quail, worms. Fox brought Hopper. We all got a good laugh out of that, which I needed. Circle o’ life, baby, circle o’ life.
Day 7
Last day. This Shiva thing is getting old, but I’m glad we did it.
Thumper, Flower, and I are still laughing about Hopper. Really only a matter of time. That rabbit had no situational awareness.
It’ll be good to be out and about again. Plus, I think, what with the mourning ending, and Aunt Ena no longer being around all the time, which, don’t get me wrong, she’s helpful, but sometimes it’s like she’s a tick on my hindquarters, I definitely have a shot with Faline.
