What ever would I do without my trusty old material from my old blog to repost when I get too busy to write new stuff?
I don't know, but here is another dusted off post from my old blog for your reading pleasure. I think this was from about a year and a half ago.....
We have a new critter here at the farm.
Couple days ago, we saw our cat Punkin running by the pond with something in her mouth.
Rosie chased her down and got her to drop it. A baby bunny. Sadly, it died moments later, most likely from internal injuries. Sniff.
Clearly, that is not our new critter.
Few minutes later, Punkin was off and running with another small furry creature in her jaws of death. Rosie got her to drop it again. Another bunny. This one looked OK at first. We were hopeful he would make it. Then we learned it had a spinal cord injury, rendering it a paraplegic. Not too much longer, tragically, he passed on. Possibly he drowned in tears rather than dying from his injuries. Either way, he was buried under the cherry tree with his brother, with heartfelt eulogies cried into the falling dusk.
Clearly , that is not our new critter.
However. Yesterday afternoon. Julie fetched me and expressed with great urgency that I needed to run with her to the dining room.
Great, I thought. The puppy pooped.
And truthfully, when I looked in the corner Julie was gesturing to, that's what I thought the little pile of brown was at first. But as my eyes adjusted, I came to realize it was not a pile of poo, but a pile of bunny. Cute, alive, adorable baby bunny. Healthy, even.
What to do, what to do...?
To put it back outside was to put it straight back into Punk's jaws. This was the third bunny that we knew of in the last couple days that she had caught. Plus a mouse.
Couldn't keep it as a pet. I had heard that wild rabbits, even when raised in captivity from babies, make for lousy pets when grown.
So we compromised. Decided to raise it to maturity and then release it. It will have a better chance than if we release it now. And it's not like it will lose out on skills training by being raised in captivity. They don't forage. They don't hunt. They eat grass. How hard can it be?
After losing the nest of bunnies by the pool, after losing the two that Punk injured, we're hoping this one might have a chance.
But jeesh. I think it's high time I start distributing little tiny rabbit condoms around the pastures so I can put an end to all this nonsense.
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