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In our house we have four cats, one mouse, and one fish. For about half an hour on Saturday, we also had a baby bunny. Baby had been brought in by one of the boys, mostly undamaged--so healthy he came crashing down the stairs into the family room with two giant felines hot on his tail. I kept hearing a scatter and thump before the boys moved, so I knew there was something alive. Of course, considering their usual prey, I thought it was a mouse, rat, vole, or injured bird. Craig went to check it out; whatever it was had hidden in the corner behind Ana's books and the cat tree. He called me over, and crouched small was Baby.
We tried capturing him, but he ended up using our container as a way to get away from us. I lifted him up gently in the cup he'd hopped into and held onto him while Craig and Ana gathered a box, towel, and some spinach and water. After a few moments in my lap, he got frantic in the container, so I brought him up and put him in the box. There was no doubt his limbs were healthy enough the way he crashed around in both the container and later in the box. We're not sure if he hurt his nose in his panic, or if he'd gotten a scratch from one of the cats, but there was a little blood from a scratch. Everything else seemed ok. When I held him to me, he stopped trembling and relaxed. I stroked his ears and he curled up against me. Gods, I wanted to keep him--or her (I didn't check gender)--but he was a wild baby and needed to get back out there.
We kept the cats back, and after assuring myself that there were no other injuries besides the tiny scratch, I set him down on the grass in the front. He just sat there and waited until I stepped back onto the porch, then I heard a great deal of rustling and a brush in the trees as he ran away. So, though I did the right thing, I wish I hadn't. As I explained to Ana why we couldn't keep him, I knew I was just talking myself into letting him go like I should. Ah well, for a little while, I was a bunny-mama, but we don't have a hutch, and even if we did, the cats would find a way in to eat him. He's got a better chance out there free than he would near our big, furry predators.
"Poow wittwe bunny. Poow wittwe wabbit."
"What did you expect from an opera, a happy ending?"
Terrified, scratched bunny. It's really hard to take a decent photo of a panicked hare when you've got the bunny in one hand and the camera in the other ... and the flash went off when I set to NOT do it.
Baby curled up -- much more comfortable bunny with rubbed ears. Still, he wanted to go home, so we sent him on his way. I only hope he found it safely.
We tried capturing him, but he ended up using our container as a way to get away from us. I lifted him up gently in the cup he'd hopped into and held onto him while Craig and Ana gathered a box, towel, and some spinach and water. After a few moments in my lap, he got frantic in the container, so I brought him up and put him in the box. There was no doubt his limbs were healthy enough the way he crashed around in both the container and later in the box. We're not sure if he hurt his nose in his panic, or if he'd gotten a scratch from one of the cats, but there was a little blood from a scratch. Everything else seemed ok. When I held him to me, he stopped trembling and relaxed. I stroked his ears and he curled up against me. Gods, I wanted to keep him--or her (I didn't check gender)--but he was a wild baby and needed to get back out there.
We kept the cats back, and after assuring myself that there were no other injuries besides the tiny scratch, I set him down on the grass in the front. He just sat there and waited until I stepped back onto the porch, then I heard a great deal of rustling and a brush in the trees as he ran away. So, though I did the right thing, I wish I hadn't. As I explained to Ana why we couldn't keep him, I knew I was just talking myself into letting him go like I should. Ah well, for a little while, I was a bunny-mama, but we don't have a hutch, and even if we did, the cats would find a way in to eat him. He's got a better chance out there free than he would near our big, furry predators.
"What did you expect from an opera, a happy ending?"
Terrified, scratched bunny. It's really hard to take a decent photo of a panicked hare when you've got the bunny in one hand and the camera in the other ... and the flash went off when I set to NOT do it.
Baby curled up -- much more comfortable bunny with rubbed ears. Still, he wanted to go home, so we sent him on his way. I only hope he found it safely.
