Delicious and tragic

From the ages of 18-21 I lived with my friend and future DJ partner, Bengi, in an apartment in Attleboro,Massachusetts that we affectionately called The Heavy Metal Playhouse. While Bengi attended Bryant College, I did everything a college student typically does except going to class. It made for a wonderful three years but not surprisingly ended with Bengi moving to Connecticut with a job offer at Travelers and me living in my car and then with a family of Jehovah Witnesses in a room off their kitchen that I shared with a goat. For reasons that I can no longer remember, Bengi and I decided to one day purchase two rabbits as pets. They were trained to use a litter box and basically had the run of the house. For a a while, it was cute to have them hopping around and very popular with the girls. But rabbits have a nasty habit of chewing on wires, so eventually, for the sake of our appliances and the rabbits’ health, we had to get rid of them.

I had a girlfriend at the time named Lisa whose father kept a number of rabbits in a barn behind their home. The family was Portuguese and I was under the impression that he kept his rabbits as pets. Looking for a new home for Fluffy, I offered Lisa’s father my rabbit and he accepted.

A couple of months later, I was eating Thanksgiving dinner at Lisa’s home. While spooning a stew into my mouth, Lisa’s father asked how I liked it.

“I like it a lot. It’s good,” I said, meaning it.

“You should. It’s Fluffy!” he replied with a smile.

I had unknowing been eating my pet rabbit, an apparent staple of the Portuguese menu.

In a bizarre coincidence, my boss was also fed his pet rabbit as a child, unbeknownst to him until he had swallowed a few mouthfuls of the stew.

What are the odds?