The Bunny's Fourth

It was raining Sunday, the fourth of July.  It has been raining all week.  The backyard is flooded and all my cat's graves are under water.  I couldn't drink my coffee out by the pool so I went to the front porch and watched the cars drive by.  Many had American flags on them along with conservative political banners.  Lots of golf carts, those are legal here and what with the town packed with tourists on the holiday weekend the rental cart places have been doing gangbuster business.  I sat behind the flag I had draped over the porch so my ears would not be so noticeable.  I could hear fireworks everywhere and this evening the street would be packed with onlookers, this house has the best view of anywhere in town.  All the locals know about me but it is usually the drunk college kids that are a problem.  I listened to the local NPR station playing Sousa and then went inside for some kind of breakfast.  As I did not want to go to the overcrowded grocery store the night before I was short on food, so I had some emergency oatmeal with a carrot.  Before the transition I never liked carrots and such, now I crave them.  I remember as a kid on the rare times I had steak how much I loved it, now it makes me sick to think of eating mammals.  Fish is good, what with the Gulf of Mexico in front of the house I can have that whenever I like.  Of course I have to fish at night.  My fur is hell to dry off, but the best fishing here is done by wading out among the oyster beds.  I cannot abide fishing overalls, I mean, it's hot enough for a rabbit in the summer without 10 lbs. of rubberized chest high boots into the bargain.  Last week I was coming in from fishing with a couple of decent sized sand trout, I passed a truck with 4 guys drinking beer who fell silent as I walked by.  When I was a few yards away someone said something and they all broke into howls of laughter.  I noticed the truck was covered with pro-hunting bumper stickers and NRA medallions.  I wondered if any of those clowns had ever hunted prey that could and did shoot back?  Probably, the last war had swept up so many in the draft it was a certainty that a few males in any given group had served.  My unit was wiped out in a particularly stupid mission, only me and Paulie survived.  Speaking of him, I wondered how his Fourth was going.  Paulie lives in his old hometown of Chicago, I think he does better with strangers than I do because lipping off to a 300 lb bear pattern was just not done.  The part of town he lives in is used to immediate consequences for disrespect and stupidity, here we have much more in the way of punk kids who have never been held to account for their behavior.  While I am not very large, I am so much faster than a non-transitioned human my advantage is extreme when it comes to brawling.  But the last time I got into it with a bully I was thrown in jail and my case officer threatened me with isolation, and I don't want to go through that again, ever.
I spent the rest of the day working on a guitar and waiting for the firework display.  Around 9, I took the cats into the inner bedroom and locked the door.  I placed plugs in my ears and sat out the event in the closet.  I could still see the light from the explosives and hear dull thuds even through the soundproofed wall.  I shook like a leaf until it was all over and finally went to sleep, exhausted.  I didn't dream all night and woke up feeling kinda eager for the new day. 
Jesus. Lather, rinse, repeat.  Why was I born?

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