Last Friday my efforts to power wash the outside of my house were interrupted by a shrill, little squeal. I glanced around in time to notice the neighbor’s black cat streak across the miniature orchard section of our backyard (planted with miniature peach and nectarine and apple trees). Something white clearly dangled from the black cat’s mouth. My laser sharp brain took only a few moments to hone in on that tuft of white fur as the most likely source of the pained squealing. (Can’t get nothing past me.)
Plus, I grew up on a ranch in Texas. So without further incriminating myself, or my choice of compatriots, let’s just say I have a pretty good ear for tortured critters. This one sounded like a baby bunny. A quick chase of Loki (the black cat) partnered with my vocal inquiry of what the wily cat was up to resulted in Loki abandoning his prize in order to monitor my next steps from a short distance.
Sure enough, I stooped low over a little fluff of white, speckled bunny. Not a cottontail, mind you. But a little fella who looked more Netherland Dwarf or Jersey Wooly than anything else. (As a youngster, I spent some number of years raising and showing rabbits through 4H.) Before I could safely retrieve the floof, he scampered into the nearby hedge of ivy covering our back fence. At least he could still move pretty well.
Of course the first thing I did was text the wife for backup. I needed a spotter to stay fixed on Loki while I attempted to dig the little bundle out of the ivy. A few minutes later, I emerged with an unbloodied, little bunny who turned out none the worse for wear despite being worn around the neighborhood as a cat necklace.
After we situated Ivy (the quickly spawned name for the critter) into a box with some water and hay, I found the number for the local rabbit rescue organization (Save a Bun) and dialed ‘em up. At the same time, I visited some neighbors a block over known to have frequently spotted rabbits in their backyard. Turns out the rescue organization had received several calls from our neck of the woods (and by woods, I mean carefully groomed lawns and slightly shady alleyways). Rumor had it that upon moving out, a family had decided to leave their breeding pair of rabbits behind. Several months later, the wisdom of that decision had reached my backyard.
I can’t help but think there is a moral to this story. Somehow this reflects what is going on with our society at large. A very few individuals are making very poor decisions of convenience that result in an ever expanding ripple effect for the rest of us that for the most part we remain blissfully unawares.
I mean, stray bunnies. How can that really be such a big deal, right? Well, the rescue lady related a story over the phone. Apparently this exact same series of events occurred in a Boise neighborhood five years ago. That neighborhood is now inflicted by over 500 stray rabbits…despite all the ones being picked off by an arsenal of Lokis.
Gardens be damned. As cute as the little critters are, they dig holes and eat stuff. And now that I’m aware of the problem, what do I do to be part of the solution? Adopting one little bunny and convincing myself that I’ve played my part would be the American (less than half-assed) way of passively ignoring the matter. I mean, if everyone else in the neighborhood simply did the same, we’d have no more strays, right? At least I’m not as bad as those people who left the breading pair behind. At least I don’t go around saying I should have the right to do whatever the hell is convenient for me, everyone else be damned. Right?
That’s how we end up losing our way of life to a horde of ravenous rodents. It seems it would be a better idea to get my neighbors involved and to invite the rescue lady to set up a series of traps to catch, snip and adopt out all the breeding age bunnies. I suppose in the distant past I would have considered the alternative solution of patrolling the neighborhood with guns until we’d blasted all the critters to kingdom come. Maybe this former ranch hand has grown soft in his old age. Maybe my kids have been born into a different world. Maybe I’m willing to consider more complicated solutions for complicated problems. Maybe all of this is just about some stray rabbits after all.
At the Desk This Week
My desk is still collecting dust for the most part. I took the family camping this last week. We finally got away to one of two spots in the world were star garnets can be found. Star garnets are a rare, natural occurring dodecahedron that reveal a star glimmer in the middle when polished. Good times. I’m too busy spending time with my family and bleeding all over the place to miss my fiction writing…yet. The time will come when I’ll be pulled back. But it ain’t now.
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