Bunnies and Tow Trucks

Toulouse

After dinner with the Peonies, I followed a lead to a rabbit rescue just a few miles away. Since my Toulouse is stuck in Dallas, I am tentatively in the market for a furry bundle of unburdened joy to hold me up against the dark winter. The bunny lady had cats, sheep, ducks, dogs…and 100 rabbits. Among the 100 rabbits, only one stood out to me. He was older, had the coloring of a siamese cat, and had just escaped his pen.  If I get him, I would have to call him "Lord Alfred" or something similarly noble yet ridiculous.

We left the rabbit greenhouses and the over-committed bunny lady rabbit and turned to the road. As we accelerated onto the highway, I suddenly felt the car slowing down. When I looked over, I saw Mom rapidly glancing up and down from the road to the pedals. 

The engine turned off. 

We rolled into an abandoned parking lot. 

20 minutes later, I rediscovered myself on the Peony farm, this time at the kitchen table with a ukalele in my arms and the cluck of two other ukaleles in my ears, played by a witty uncle (dubbed "Camp Chef) and his nephew (an eighth grade baritone opera singer). My sunburned grump quickly turned to eager cheer as I learned to play what is often referred to as "just a toy."

But you know what toys do? said the uncle. They make you feel good. 

An hour or two later, Mom and I scrambled up into the tow truck to share a bench with "Jason" as he carried Car back to Anchorage. Jason used to work his dream job as commercial fisherman. He stopped  because he couldn't maintain relationships. Then he made good money working on the slope. He stopped that too because it wasn't healthy for his relationship. Now, for the sake of a wholesome relationship with his newly-wed, he drives a tow truck four days a week.
Happy anniversary, Jason and Wife. May God bless your marriage for the sacrifices you've made.