I was thinking today about Father's Day and what I was going to get my Dad. It reminded me of Father's Day about 5 years ago.
I arrived at my parents house at about 11:00 a.m. and noticed that my parents were acting funny.
My Mom said, "should we tell her?"
My Dad said, "Yes."
My mom informed me that my rabbit Emily died that morning and that she was outside laying by the tree so that I could say goodbye.
I bought Emily in college, but my parents sort of inherited her when I moved out. Outside by the tree was my little Emily. My dog Hershey was by her side actually whimpering.
My Dad decided that we were going to have a funeral. I have mentioned before that I have a slightly quirky family. Well here's the perfect example of it.
My Dad gets out a shovel and digs a hole in Emily's favorite flower garden. I notice immediately that the hole is too small. Emily was a bit of a heifer. Anway, I mention to my dad that it is too small. He tells me it's fine.
My mom then proceeds to yell at him... "Bill, the hole is way to small."
He is mumbling angrily under his breath. I start to cry and shout at him to make the hole bigger. I can't help, but picture Emily's lifeless body being squeezed into that small hole and my crazy Dad trying to shove her into it.
He finally agrees after my mom and I yell at him for a few minutes.
And finally Emily is layed to rest. Not anyone's idea of a peaceful burial, but so typical of the Millers. A lot of yelling and arguing.
I love my parents.
On a sidenote.. My mom even gave Emily a bath after she died because apparently she was filthy. I love that my parents, shelter a woman in her late 20's from a bunny death.