The first time I held a rabbit
It was calm, loving, and adorable
I felt that it felt safe in my hands
And it was.
The second time I held a rabbit in my hands
It kicked, scratched, and screeched
The second rabbit was as perfectly safe in my hands
I wasn’t going to harm either of these precious little beasts
So why did the second rabbit panic?
I think the main difference between the two of them
Was the time that separated each event.
The first time I was a child
The second; an adult.
And as I held tightly onto that second rabbit
I realised why it broke out in a panic
Why its heart beat faster and faster.
Several years ago, I went on holiday
I tried a few new things
Visiting various restaurants
Tasting many delicious meats;
-Swordfish, Calamari, Rainbow Trout, Shark, and even Snails
The last one was not delicious
Really awful, I still dread that taste.
But in all those new found treats in strange meats.
There was one that caught my taste buds
Rabbit. Rabbit, obviously.
I first tried it in Crete
I had Rabbit in white wine
And since then I’d had it a couple more times
Served, and cooked in different forms.
And looking back at that second Rabbit
Kicking, clawing, scratching, and screeching in my hands
I felt amused, and hollow at the same time
The rabbit knew I’d tasted its brethren
And knew I’d enjoyed it
Really, it had become one of my favourites.
And for that, I’d never again be able
To approach another rabbit again
It’s a bizarre feeling
Having an animal be scared of you
Usually, dogs love me
Cats, do too – well at least the ones who aren’t assholes
And even others, snakes, hamsters, etc.
But rabbits, well damn
Now every time I see one
I think; yeah cute
But also; dinner
And that damn rabbit
Who broke into our yard
Shivering, kicking, and biting me.
Till I dropped it, with scratches
Up & down my hands
Never came near me again
& I never went near him either