Chapter 5: The Proventriculus
"Where am I now?" Peter asked.
"The proventriculus. It's my first stomach."
"What's your other stomach called?"
"The gizzard."
"So, how long do you think I'll be stuck in here?"
"Probably 12 hours, at least."
"12 hours!"
"I'm afraid so."
"Aren't you going to drink water so that I don't get digested?"
"Yes, I do need to. Though it won't come right away as it first goes to my crop."
"What about when I'm in your gizzard?"
"I'll have to drink even more so that it can help you when it finally reaches you."
"You mean I am going to get digested?"
"I'm afraid you are, somewhat, but if all goes right, it shouldn't kill you."
"You mean it could?"
"As I said earlier, there's a chance of that."
"Just great!"
For the first 45 minutes of being inside the proventriculus, Peter didn't notice too much of a change. The space was a little bit better than in the crop while the smell of the gasses was worse. It wasn't until Agnes, out of habit, belched, that he realized a big difference. This time, the stomach began to contract around him, squeezing the air out his lungs.
"Help...I...can't...breathe!" he rasped.
Thankfully, Agnes heard him, and, realizing her mistake, quickly breathed in a bunch of air. By making like she was going to burp again but this time swallowing the air and sending it down instead of up, she sent much needed air to Peter before he suffocated. "Sorry, force of habit. It usually hurts when I keep all that air in there. But I guess I'll have to make do with you in here."
"Yes, that would be great." the young rabbit replied, rolling his eyes.
The next 45 minutes went without incident. Then, once more, something began to happen. "Ouch, something is hitting me and it stings!" Peter cried out.
"That would be the stomach acid."
"Stomach acid! You mean the stuff that digests me?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Quick, drink some water to neutralize it!"
"I'm afraid there's not enough in my bowl to make my crop dump it into here right away."
"Then get some. It burns! Ouch! Get...ouch...some...please...ow!"
"Ok, I'll try and get some more, but I can't just keep begging for water every time you whine."
Agnes began to moan and cry. Soon, Mr. McGreggor came in to check up on her. She ran her beak across her empty water bowl, as though trying to find water that wasn't there.
Mr. McGreggor left with the bowl and soon returned with it filled to the top. Agnes drank the entire thing. This filled her crop to the top, causing it to spill the water into her proventriculus, dousing Peter and neutralizing the stomach acid. "There, that should help you for a while. Though I can't keep doing this every time you whine." she said.
"Thank you. That feels much better." he sighed.
Peter was now up to his middle in water. At first it was cool and helped him cool down as he rubbed the hawk's stomach. However, soon the water began to get warmer and warmer due to the hawk's body heat. BRRUMPPPM! Bubbles formed in the water as the rabbit farted. He giggled and farted several more times. At least he had some very mild form of amusement in his very bad situation.
An hour later, he could hear many sounds like that sounded like farts coming from below him. "What's going on?" he asked.
"Emptying my cloaca."
"You mean you're pooping."
"More or less."
Peter didn't know why she said "more or less". He still didn't quite know what a cloaca was. However, he did know that he would, sooner or later, be pooped out of it.
"Agnes, how long do you think it will be till I reach your cloaca?"
"Not tomorrow morning but the morning after."
"Ug, over a full day!" Peter moaned.
"Actually, it will be two full days before you get pooped out. I can only excrete you out at night, remember?"
Peter groaned. Two more days inside a bird's body. This was definitely not worth the garden feast he'd had that morning!
The walls of the hawk's first stomach were slimy and he felt somewhat disgusted to rub his hands against the rough muscular walls. He had worse problems besides slimy stomach walls. His itchiness due to the poison ivy had made his anus and testicles itch worse than ever. Worse, as the acid level increased in the first stomach, the acidic level rose to the point where the acid began to burn at his fur, making him itch even more.
"This itches!" he moaned.
"I can't do anything about your, what was it you called them?" Agnes said.
"My anus, my butthole, and my balls, er, testicles, as my uncle calls them."
"Those. I can't help you with the poison ivy itch. Only time will make it go away, I'm afraid."
"I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about what the acid is doing to my fur."
"I'm sorry, I can't keep drinking water. It makes me have to pee and also it will drown you if I keep drinking it."
"I just hope it doesn't digest me to death."
"You're a long ways off before it could kill you. It hasn't even burned off your fur yet."
"Burned off my fur!"
"Yes, I think it likely you'll lose that before you reach the other end."
"Oh damn!"
"At least you'll likely live."
"Small comfort when you're inside stomachs being digested."
Not only were his balls and anus itching, and not only was his fur itching were the acid was beginning to sting it, but his wound that Agnes had made had started to blister from the acidic burns. And he was very hot. Hotter than he'd been in his life, he reckoned. At least before, when it had been a hot day, he could head inside or take a nice cool bath. Now, he was in warm water, getting warmer by the moment, inside the hot innards of a bird, with acid slowly dripping around him. He was very thirsty too. So thirsty, in fact, that, despite the water having some of his piss, from before, in it as well as the chewed up remains of the hawk's lunch, he drank several gulps of it anyway. His stomach wasn't at all happy about this, but he forced the water down. Drinking all of this water, of course, made him have to pee, again, which further tainted the water. He covered his penis with his hands as he peed, giving it cover from the stomach acid.
Time seemed to slowly ebb by for the young rabbit. Not only was the acid becoming worse, starting to cause a few clumps of his fur to fall out, but he was starting to develop a feeling of claustrophobia. This was not just because of his limited moving space inside the hawk's proventriculus, but because the organ, every one in a while, would squeeze against him as it tried to process him. Thankfully, it wasn't doing a very good job.
And speaking of processing, true to his word, he'd been dancing in the remains of the hawk's afternoon meal, helping to break it down, stepping on broken meat, and, occasionally, bone. "You eat the bones too?" "To save the time of picking all the little ones out, I do. My stomachs can handle it." "Yuck! To think of pooping out bones! It's something I'd never do!' "And I never thought I'd ever have to poop out a whole young rabbit, yet here I am." And besides, I don't poop out the bones anyway." "What?" "I spit them up in pellets, remember?" "Right."
Evening came and Agnes sent down more food into her crop. Thankfully, it didn't reach Peter for hours. Unfortunately this also held true for the milk that she had drank as well. In fact, the sun had set, the moon come out, and the hawk had fallen asleep for the night by the time it did. He had lost several patches of fur and was glad for some relief for the acid in the form of the milk, even if it did come with a large mole that the McGreggors had caught. This big meal, in fact, had put the hawk to sleep. She had been kept awake for a good while past her normal bedtime by the incessant pestering of the young rabbit, but soon, her natural need for sleep, plus her large meal, caused her to nod off. Peter could tell that she was asleep for she snored, and rather loudly too. The snoring echoed around him, making him cover his ears. He had tried to wake her, but she was too sleepy. Finally, around 2 AM, he finally woke her.
"Can't you let a girl sleep?" she whined sleepily. "Your snoring is awful!" "I suppose it is. But I've never had a stomach guest before to worry about. I'm afraid you'll have to make do." "I guess so." A few minutes later, something finally happened. The first stomach began to drain. Peter soon reached the bottom and was squeezed down a tube and into chamber. "Where am I now?" he asked. "You're in my gizzard." Agnes said, before falling back to sleep.