Just another Sunday at home.........
I am about ready to pack it in for today.
Was going to write about my conflicted feelings about another Respect Life Sunday, waking up with a knot in my stomach instead of a feeling of “mission to accomplish.” I’ll probably write more tomorrow when I’ve pulled my thoughts together.

Fran got a phone call from a friend, a sweet but rather confused girl. It appears she is in an abusive relationship and came home and found that her boyfriend had left, but not before brutalizing her pet rabbit. (I asked Bridget, “why do these people call us?” and she said because we are kind and the only normal people around. ) So I told Fran to get her to call a local shelter for abused women to get some counseling and advice, but Fran said, no, she is on her way over with the rabbit.

This rabbit did not look good. It was bleeding from the nose, not moving , and one eye looked damaged. My guess (just guessing) was that it was in shock and probably slowly bleeding to death from internal injuries. Fran couldn’t get thru to the animal hospital where she works. So the girls have spent quite a while trying to find an emergency vet that handles ‘exotics’ and would see a bunny ASAP on a Sunday night. (The internet helped - the Illinois House Rabbit Society had a nice list of vets who takes rabbits) Then Fran’s friend was working the phone trying to raise money from her parents because all of these animal emergency places are cash only.

I doubt if the rabbit will make it. The girls are off to Skokie, where there was a vet who would see them, but said the bunny would probably have to be put down. I tried to help, if only by comforting the bunny while everybody else tried to find help. I pray that Fran’s friend gets help, too. I overheard her talking to her father on the phone and she was telling him that she came home and found that the rabbit “hurt herself.” She’s covering for the idiot boyfriend - or too ashamed to admit the truth.

This whole thing is horrifying. And sad.
And I really loathe myself for feeling resentful when reality intrudes on the calm, happy bubble that I want my home to be...............