My Wife the Bunny Rescuer

I’m not a cat person.  Between the can’t-be-bothered haughtiness, spraying on the walls, yowling to be let out, and desire to climb on your head, I can find better forms of companionship.  But now I can add a new reason to dislike felines:  torment of baby rabbits.  Yesterday my wife chased down one of the neighborhood riff raff cats who had a tiny baby bunny in its mouth and was tossing it in the air for fun.

Normally I’d recommend nature take its course but cats have cat food and warm beds and wild rabbits have to fend for themselves.  My wife chased the cat down, gathered up the baseball-sized baby in her coat, and brought it home to hold in a box while she figured out what to do.  But were the neighborhood cats finished?  No.  Later in the afternoon she heard rustling in the bushes below the dining room window and saw a different cat making a break for it with another baby rabbit clamped in its jaws.  This time, with the help of a neighbor, she cornered it under a deck and got the cat removed and incarcerated in its owner’s home.  When I got home from work I crawled under the deck to retrieve the wounded bunny.  Here are the two siblings, scared and injured, in our makeshift hospital.

We contacted a wildlife rescue organization and I dropped them off this morning.  Throughout this whole operation Child Harbat was fascinated and empathetic.  I honestly thought the more injured one wouldn’t last through the night but this morning it had perked up a bit.  The animal rescue place is going to follow up with me to let me know how the patients are doing.

I give full credit to my wife for saving the lives of these two innocent bunnies.  Meanwhile I’m going to let the neighborhood cats know the origin of the world ‘catapult’ if they harm any more infant animals on our property.  Updates forthcoming.

About Peter Soutowood

Writer, architect, father, husband.