The heartbreaking cry of a Grand is misery to an old grand pappy. I would rather chew tinfoil than know one of our Grands is not doing well, and so would my close relative. The tears of those children are acid to my heart, eating great holes in my being. And it happens often when you are so blessed to have more than a few Grands.

I hadn’t heard anything to suggest trouble was on the way yesterday morning. I guess I was at the barn feeding the sick pen when the situation got sour. My close relative said the wail was soul rendering and she tore out of the house to see what in the world caused it. She found the least of the Grands, he is about 4 but not there yet, holding his stomach and sobbing greatly!

This adored child was standing over the lifeless form of a cottontail rabbit, half eaten and just enough left to be real nauseating.The tears were washing down his face in rivers, and he was turning into a clump of gristly little boy very pale in color. The shrieks didn’t quiet down a bit as his grandmother held him close and tried her best to console him.

Not real sure of what to do in situations like the afore described, I did exactly the wrong thing! You could lay money on that, me doing the exact wrong thing if you were a betting man! I grabbed that carcass by what used to be a back leg and carried it off towards the woods and out of the sight of those suffering! Screams ensued! The flies had already been busy, and where the carcass had laid were millions of nasty little, well you know what.

Little children are so innocent and precious that the death of a rabbit is almost unbearable. Especially when that or some other cottontail is so much fun to watch asit hops around the edge of the yard and munches on the garden stuff. The sweetness of such animals is lost on us older folk, but that unhardened heart of youth is tender and soaks in all the adorable things we miss!

I could still hear sobbing when I headed back to the barn, and I know it must have been terrible for the kid because his grand nanny’s cookies hadn’t halted it. A shock and a shove into the harshness of the real world was pretty dang painful. Death, or even life, can be raw and almost unbearable.

It is my opinion, and everyone has one, country kids are introduced to reality and hard situations in a healthier way than the ones not so fortunate to be country raised. Yes, the brutal scene was hard to take, but real. There were no stories of fantasies to cloud the truth, no ignoring the reality of the food chain, and still no forgetting of the tenderness of a child’s heart! It takes it all to raise good citizens and God-loving men!

Bill is a pen name used by the Gravette author of this weekly column.

Opinion, Pages 6 on 08/03/2011