Did I ever tell you about the time I did surgery with a papoose?

When Anna was a babe, Anthony spearheaded a project putting a sprinkler system in our neighborhood park. A trencher dug tracks for the pipes, which were placed and glued, all in one weekend.

I went back later in the week to cover the trenches. I put Anna in the backpack, and shovel in hand, covered the ditches. A parks maintanence worker waved to me from a huge riding lawnmower.

A few moments later, the peaceful breezy afternoon was pierced with eerie screams. The maintenance man was off his mower and crouched under a pine tree. His mower had inadvertantly hit a bunny. If you've ever heard a bunny scream you know how unearthly it is. I don't know who looked more terrified, the man or the rabbit. He didn't speak eloquent English, but he did say repeatedly, "I didn't mean to! Accident!"

The rabbit's skin was flayed open in several places, but he had no other major injuries. I suspected it looked worse than it was. I took him from the horrified man and walked home with the injured bunny. I had a friend that worked at a local animal hospital, and called to ask if I could take him there. I took baby Anna out of the backpack and put her into the car seat.

My friend was happy to see me, but she and all her colleagues were very busy. Soon I was heading back home to get the backpack again. One of her technicians gassed the bunny down, and I sutured his many lacerations, with my baby in my backpack. Rabbit skin is thin as tissue paper, but I got all the edges in approximation. Anna stood on her tippytoes and watched the whole thing over my shoulder.

The bunny recovered for a few days at the clinic, then we had a local rescue group pick him up. He was probably released in a far different part of Austin. Hopefully he added something new to the gene pool there.

Thanks for reminding me of this great tale, Lisa. I wish I had photos.