Escape from Bun-Catraz

It was a calm, cold night. The stars were shining in a clear sky, temperatures hovering around 5 degrees and dropping steadily. I was headed for my to-bed routine, and had just let the dogs out for last pee. Suddenly, Max the labradoodle was baying like the Hound of the Baskervilles. No amount of yelling from a cracked door got him to either "shut IT!" or come back to the door, so there was nothing for it: out I tromped wrapped in my fuzzy robe and rubber wellies. Turns out, some idiot (ahem) left the door of the hutch open, and the four mostly-grown rabbits had braved the three foot drop and made a run for freedom. After dragging a very reluctant dog inside, I spent the next half hour catching and corraling very happy rabbits. I got peed on not once, not twice, but three times, as I scrabbled underneath the other rabbit hutches to catch very fuzzy, very devious little white rabbits. I felt like Alice on bad acid. Really bad acid that smelled like rabbit pee. (I know: ewww, right? Just say no to drugs, kids.) Finally, everyone was incarcerated once more, and I was able to shower my reeking self and head to bed. (Note: Rabbit catching is NOT an activity recommended in the recovery process after arm surgery.)

When I set off this morning, it was with comfortable knowledge that all hutches were secured and no inmates would be leaving Bun-Catraz without official notice. Imagine my surprise when I got home and found all four rabbits had escaped, again. Somehow, my innocent-looking bunnies had morphed into miniature Houdinis and managed to wiggle the lock open on their cage. A carabeener clip and stretchy chain cord should hopefully fix that issue, but still...they needed catching. So in I dove, risking pee-baths and trying not to fall into snow. After 45 minutes, I managed to catch and re-jail three of the incorrigibles. They seemed happy enough, and commenced goring themselves on hay and kibble. But Inmate #4 was made of different stuff; no amount of coaxing and fancy footwork would woo him to capture. The final rabbit repeatedly mocked me with his fast rabbit feet and insouciant twitching nose. He was confident that freedom was his, bwah hah hah hah...

So I got out my trusty sidearm.

He's now safely incarcerated in The Freezer. Goes to show you, nobody outruns the long arm of the law, not even when its gimped up and recently destitched. Take that, cocky rabbits everywhere.