by Ian Shanley from Winnipeg, MB
Mar 2, 13
Years back, I was enjoying a lazy Sunday in my apartment. It was Spring and at long last the windows could be swung open to fill the rooms with fresh, un-frozen air. A pot of coffee gurgled in the background. Vinyl Café was on the radio. My Sunday ritual. My sanctuary. My time to shut out the hectic world and recharge for the week ahead.
Suddenly the peace was shattered by a staccato ringing: the telephone.
It was my Mother. "You have to come quick! We need your help." The blood drained from my head. I anticipated some horrific event. I asked if she was okay. She reassured me. She said, she was fine. Then she said she and my sister Tracey were worried because they had spotted an injured animal from their balcony. They thought it might be a rabbit. They wanted me to come over and check it out for them.
I drove to Mom's, she escorted me to the balcony.
The balcony overlooked a large field. The field was covered in snow. Tracey pointed out across the field to where they had seen the rabbit.
I looked out into the field. Sure enough, about 70 yards away, I could see something sitting there, perhaps with an injured limb, looking in distress. Mom and Tracey were close to tears. I knew what I had to do. I had to go out there and make sure everything was okay. As I started my trek into the field questions ran through my head. Questions like, "What the heck am I going to do with an injured rabbit?”
Within a minute, all thoughts of an injured animal were dismissed. When I could see it I realized what “it” actually was. A large, one-gallon paint can was lying on its side, its torn label flapping in the breeze!
I turned toward the balcony. Mom and Tracey were standing there, staring. That’s when the 'brother' gene kicked in.
I was about 10 feet from the 'bunny' now.
As Mom and Tracey watched in horror, I took a run at the paint can, and kicked it 10 feet into the air!
I yelled; "It IS a Rabbit!" and I kicked the can into the air again.
When I got back to the condo, I let them off the hook.
I got home to my lukewarm coffee, fresh air, and the remains of a Dave and Morley story.