So as most people know, men tend have an urge, almost an itch to shoot things cute and fuzzy. From boyhood the eloquent chants by Elmer Fudd of "kill the rabbit" have echoed in my ears and awakened a desire to do just that. This past Saturday provided an opportunity for just such an occasion.

I, along with a good friend, made the trek into the barren wasteland, which some know as western Utah. Although lacking in visual appeal, this desolate land provides ample bunnies, strangely all with the forename Jack. With my trusty 12 gauge in tow, and my handgun at my side I walked on to the seen looking like Arnold Schwarzeneggar in the movie "Commando." To my chagrin, fire had charred much of the area in the once fertile bunny crescent, now all that was left were burnt trees and bare earth. My friend and I walked through the area looking for any sign of life to receive the wrong ends of our boom sticks, but sadly the fire had beat me too it. Finally admitting defeat we turned our shooting rage onto a few stray beer bottles and a burnt tree. The beer bottles exploded as expected and we were able to shoot down the burnt tree, but still my urge for a trophy with floppy ears and a cotton tail has eluded me. Until next time rabbit, until next time.....

j.