"That's why you shouldn't fight a dog. "You can fight a lot of things," his father had told him. "You can fight a thief, and you can fight your family. You can fight another rabbit and you can fight a hangover. You can fight yourself and you can fight ennui, but you can't fight a dog. A dog has teeth and legs that bend backward and will grab a rabbit in its mouth to make its own version of love. Doggy style. You can't fight a dog."
Rabbit was sitting on the low branches of a tree. Sitting and combing his hair with a switchblade comb, because even though this was a story about a rabbit, it was also about the 50s and marriage and a little bit of basketball.
"Literature is stupid." This is what rabbit thought. "Such a high opinion."
Rabbit looked down at the ground. Dog was circling the tree. Dog penis waggled as dog walked around. Dog leg turned and lifted and then everything smelled like peepee.
"Gross" thought rabbit. "Goddamn dog."
Rabbit exhaled and thought about pulling on his furry skin until he receded into it like a popple. Then he would slowly float into the air and off into space, like a fuzzy balloon.
But he wouldn't pop when he reached the stratosphere. He wouldn't pop and spill blood and guts and peepee and eyeballs, to rain down on the dog. When he reached the stratosphere he would harden into a rocky ball and speed up and shoot out.
That didn't happen though. You win some and you lose some.
Rabbit looked down at dog and sighed.
He looked up at the sun and the sun was setting and he thought that it was beautiful and meaningful and that there was a lesson here because it was at the end of the story.
But it wasn't, and there wasn't necessarily.
Because it was just something that happened every day, which just meant that it happened a lot and that was it.
As night fell rabbit fell asleep in the tree and then fell out because he couldn't pay attention.
And if that happened then dog probably ate him. Unless dog had left.
Who knows?
This blog... is a good blog.
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