Author diaries

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17 September 2003 Entry: "Rabbits and Builders"

Skids, our rabbit, lives wild in the back garden. I’m having to make sure he doesn’t get in the way while the builders are here: just one more distraction from my work. Generally he hides in the burrow he’s dug in my herb patch, only coming out to inspect the builders work once they’ve gone, like the Clerk of Works. But when they were laying concrete they said the lime would burn his paws, so in order to safeguard Skids, I managed to catch him and lock him in the shed.
He didn’t like that, and scratched me quite badly with his sharp claws, drawing blood. Then I noticed alarming pools of bright red, and realised it was coming from him; my bracelet catch had nicked his back paw. He licked his wound, it stopped bleeding and he didn’t seem much concerned. I was full of guilt, and also worry about my scratch: potentially half the garden bacteria was in my little wound.
My doctor advised a Tetanus injection. The nurse who gave it to me informed me that I was also getting an anti-diphtheria serum in with it because it’s on the rise again. Thus one small act leads to a series of repercussions, but I can’t think how to get a Small Poem out of it.
The Builders are breaking up the old back yard with sledge hammers, it resembles a scene from a southern chain gang, but with cups of tea. Skids is wisely deep underground. I am trying to block my ears at my desk. But I tell you, rabbit blood is strangely vivid.