Self Defense With A Ford Taurus

I am a murderer.

Now, I know what you're all thinking.  Half of you are thinking: "Mina?  Impossible.  She sobbed for three days over having to catch a mouse in a trap."  The other half of you are thinking: "Huh.  I wonder how many times she managed to stab Husband before her arm got tired."

Well, nobody wants to see a picture of me.  Have the kitteh instead.

But I can reassure you all that I did not kill Husband and stuff his body in a closet to fester until I really have to do something about the corpse.  I would like to think I'd be level-headed enough to go through with my plan to kill him at the grocery store on a late night ice cream run so that I could stuff his body in the freezer and leave it should I ever feel the urge to release him from the mortal coil. 

No, I am more guilty of vehicular homicide involving a sylvilagus nuttalli, more commonly known as the mountain cottontail.  And yes, I have been sobbing non-stop over this one.

Getting Mike to work on time involves him routing me out of bed at an ungodly hour, especially because I am a night owl, putting on yoga pants because they require no buttoning, zipping or tying, and being just awake enough to follow the rules of the road to take him the like 1.6 miles to work.  All of which I do because I love him and I don't want him to have to walk.  At least not until it gets warmer and he can just get a bike and ride to work. 

But I don't expect to be involved in the death of an adorable little pest when I take him to work.  I was driving home so I could take care of myself after an unfortunate incident earlier in the day where I strained muscles in the area between my lower back and legs, specifically where the legs meet the back, and something darted out right in front of the car. 

I had no time to swerve, and after a sickening thump, I saw something fluffy with a cotton tail roll into a ditch and not move in my rear view mirror.  And I knew then that I would forever be on the run from the rabbit community.

See?  Nowhere on this list does "defenseless bunny" appear.

What do bunnies do to humans who kill their people?  Do they come marching on the house some night, to abduct the perpetrator and tie him or her to the railroad tracks until a train comes screaming down the line so the murderer knows exactly how it feels?  Is it some kind of rabbity justice that will involve me dying in pink kitty cat pajamas?

I cannot deal with the idea of being a fugitive in the bunny world.  Wondering if every night is going to be the last, if a swarm of cottontailed fluffy things are going to invade my home and put down the cat and Husband all in order to enact some kind of animal revenge that rivals that of Edmond Dantes.  I would be seriously disappointed now if it were anything but the rabbits finding hidden treasure, making up an noble title, getting close to me, and then it all ending in a duel.

Look at them plot, those fluffy bastards.

The point here is that I feel guilty.  Even if Husband tried to tell me to think of it as self defense with a Ford Taurus.  Because I can't imagine what the bunny was going to do to me if I needed an entire full sized sedan to save my life.