I have seen enough nature shows to know occasionally things go bad.
You've probably seen a few too. For example, when the orca whale slides onshore and grabs a cute, unassuming baby leopard seal. Or when the lion grabs an impala who strayed a bit too far from the pack.
Nature has been a little rough closer to home as well. We typically get to experience the joys of spring when a robin's nest in our cherry tree is filled with fuzzy babies. Last year, one fell out of the nest, before it was ready to fly, and it did not survive. It was pathetic to see and hard to explain to an 8-year-old who was staring at a lifeless bird.
Fast forward to this past Thursday. We were about to begin our quest to tackle the day when the now nine-year-old ran into the house with an urgent message.
"There is a dead rabbit in our yard!"
Here's the backstory. We have been enthralled these past couple of weeks by our own little nature show involving a couple of baby bunnies. The little guys were usually not far from their mom's watchful eye and boy are they ever cute. Hopping around and really getting some good air as their little legs lift off of the ground. It is almost as if they have a little trampoline underneath them.
We picked up on their hiding spots; one beside our shed and the other in what looks like a poison ivy patch to the right of our house. It was worrisome when a day would go by and we wouldn't see them but then the next day we would notice a small tuft of white and a sweet little tail bouncing about.
When alerted by my son's news my first response was, "It's not one of the babies is it?" But even though they were spared, the revelation that it was the mother was probably even a worse outcome. How would the little ones survive?
Everything I had to do that morning took a backseat because, you see, the story is a little more complicated than just a dead animal in the yard. The dead animal was tangled in my son's baseball backstop net. The net system is on loan and the cost to replace it - around $100. It appears the rabbit was probably being chased in the night and didn't see the netting. Her head got caught and she couldn't get free. She died from strangulation.
My first call was to animal control. I was worried about the babies and wanted to know if someone would have to come pick them up to ensure their survival. Luckily, because we have seen them out in the grass eating, the man I spoke with said they could fend for themselves. During the conversation, I did not reveal how the mother had died. I felt guilty.
My next couple calls were to men I knew that could help me remove the lifeless mass. My husband was at work and I did not want him coming home after a long day to deal with carcass removal especially at the start of his birthday weekend. But my options were limited and I wasn't having much luck. I wanted to be strong and "man up" but this was going to be unlike anything I've done before. Heck, I can't even remove mice when they get caught in a trap. How was I supposed to take care of an adult rabbit?
But then that "Bishop Determination" I've inherited kicked in and there was no other option but to get the job done. The job took all the courage a girl could muster and time, lots and lots of time. I had to prepare myself both physically and mentally for the task at hand. It would have been so easy just to make one cut of the net to release the lifeless rabbit but knowing what that would cost, I was reluctant to do it.
I basically used my gloved hands to free the rabbit's head with the care and delicateness of a surgeon. It was the ears that gave me trouble, I'm sure you can understand, but once I had tucked them through the net, the rest was easy. Obviously, my children made themselves scarce for this procedure with my youngest expressing concern every couple of minutes, "Mom, please don't do this. You don't have to do this!"
The relief I felt when I slid the rabbit out from the net triggered an instant emotional response. My little guy put his arms around me and we cried together. He was sad because he felt responsible for the mama bunny's death. My tears were a combination of winning a victory for not needing a man to rescue me and secondly for having the death net in our yard in the first place.
This morning, as I waited for my coffee to brew, I looked out of my kitchen window. I saw the brother bunnies chasing each other and hopping around. I felt a sense of relief knowing they are doing ok and that they have each other. According to bunnylady.com, rabbits don't have emotions the way people do but when they are bouncing with energy it means they are happy. And speaking as a mom, that is all you can ask for your kids.
 |
| Brother bunny 1 - photo credit Nolan Keleschenyi |
No comments:
Post a Comment