My son, Forrest, offered to kill us a rabbit for our dinner.

We are now down to five bunnies and will leave it to fate whether we let exclusively males continue to roam the larger yard, somewhat free, or to continue hosting births of kits. I say this because sexing rabbits is a challenge. Of the five remaining, we will allow the two adult males to live as well as one youngster, whether male or female. This leaves us with the task of killing two rabbits. Sadly, our original adult female fell to predation one month ago. Females are difficult to raise in the yard, due to their digging. It is harder to give them freedom and shortly after their young are born, the bunnies can hop anywhere, tiny as they are. So the mothers and young must be confined. Adult males, on the other hand can roam a large area, exercising plenty, foraging like their wild cousins, and drop their lovely pellets, helping our soil. Were we to have only male rabbits, we would have the option to cease with both killing and confining. Paul does not enjoy it. I refuse.

But, anyway, Forrest, brought in a rabbit last night, claiming he would do the dirty deed. Upon following his Dad's instructions, "Calm the rabbit, stroke it. Place its ears over its head. Then when it is fully relaxed, whack it over the head with...," Forrest only got to the part of placing its ears over its head, no further. Having bonded with the docile creature, he made a warren out of his bathroom downstairs. All his bravado and no willingness to kill. Now we have an indoor rabbit!

In raising "meat" rabbits, I have learned that it is hard to provide entirely humane conditions while raising livestock. Though I remain critical of the meat industry and still believe we must take local control of our food sources, I understand better the cruel measures taken in the mass production of protein. Hens are easy to raise in our back yard, but we do not kill our hens. Rabbits challenge.

We have not learned to kill; it is not natural for us. While he finds the butchering fascinating, Paul dreads the intimacy of the kill, and Forrest lost heart. I still have no hunger for meat. I only ate the parts of three rabbits out of respect for all the energy given to placing them before me on the plate. While a responsible act, eating these rabbits, it is not one I savor. The yielding nature, the appealing softness and the uneven and responsive ears of rabbits provoke sighs rather than hunger pangs.

I implore others to really consider what they consume. Nearly all that we take, not just meat, has a story, partly a cruel one. In this season of THANKS giving and so much need for resources by so many creatures, we would do well, to not just be thankful but to take far less as a daily discipline, a daily meditation.