said object

The rabbit was kept in a wooden hut behind the house. Her husband had built the hut, taking great care in its construction. It was her daughter’s rabbit and she seldom took notice of it, often forgetting about it entirely until she would hear a brisk scratching from the backyard. This usually meant the rabbit was hungry and if not for the scratching, she’d often forgot to feed it. She’d go out to the hut, throw some pellets in the corner of the hut and leave. Not stopping to pet the rabbit or talk sweetly to the little creature.

When her daughter returned home from school in the afternoon, she’d run to the hut and let the rabbit out and it would run wildly all over the back yard, shitting mercilessly. Sometimes it would slip through the back door, as it was often left open by the daughter, and run around on the rug, chewing wires and getting stuck under radiators. Why don’t you ever let him out, mother? She’d ask. He’s cooped up in that hut all day! She’d apologize and simply tell her daughter that she had forgotten about the rabbit and tomorrow she would be sure to let him out to play.

But day after day, she would forget and her daughter would complain and tell her how mean she was. All you want to do all day is write your books. You don’t care about anything else, you don’t care about Jeffy, he needs exercise and proper food, look how thin he is! Yes, yes, I know, I’m sorry but I have a deadline and Rabbit is sure to understand. Why can’t you call him Jeffy like Daddy does. Oh, is that its name? Yes mother, how can you forget?!

Her daughter gave up on her and simply asked her father to take over. So when her husband returned home for lunch, he’d feed the rabbit and let it out for awhile. You could at least give the rabbit more food, honey, after all he is a living creature. We’re all living creatures. You, me and Sally. Rabbits reproduce too much, a little less of them in the world would make it a much better place. And he ruins my yard with his silly little droppings and disrupts any sort of equilibrium we have around here, she said and continued to type away, trying to finish her novel about suffering and lust in monastic orders.

When her daughter returned home that day she couldn’t find Jeffy. Where did he go mother? she asked, frantically searched for him everywhere. I don’t know, Sally, I need to finish this and she turned away from her and typed frantically, an oily patch of sweat forming above her brow. Sally and her father searched the neighborhood all evening but still couldn’t find Jeffy. When they returned, her mother was gone and there instead sat Jeffy, in her chair before the typewriter, licking his little white paws. The paper in the typewriter read, “Rabbit left hut.”