Vegetarians, look away now. This is not a pretty sight.
I have eaten rabbit – in Spain. I am not squeamish. Whilst I have never killed anything that makes a sound there was a time I collected worms in the early morning dew, my grandfather showing me how to thread them on a hook and how to kill a fish. I was very young. And it’s a life skill I am grateful for should I ever find myself on a desert island. Fish are easy to dispatch. And no one loves fish more than this mermaid.
Years later, in my early twenties, I was given a rabbit. It was skinned and gutted. So no hardship there. I put it in the fridge. If there is one thing that can be said about rabbits it’s that their bodies resemble that of a cat. I like cats. A fridge will do what a fridge will do. Refrigerate. The dish the rabbit was in had a lid on.
Readers, no, I didn’t get married neither did I roast the rabbit. I let it fester. In the fridge. What a fine forensic pathologist I would have made.
Let’s leave it there. That poor poor rabbit never met its destiny. I binned it complete in vessel. Without lifting the lid to pour over the damage. Yes, that long and bad.