!!!
Look what Rory brought to me yesterday and dropped unceremoniously on the kitchen floor. A baby bunners. Awwwwwww.
This little guy (girl?) was still alive and didn’t seem to be hurt (although, he could have had some broken bones or internal bleeding, I can’t know for sure), but he was so little he fit into the palm of my hand and his eyes weren’t even open yet (don’t worry, I did not touch him with my hands).
I wrapped him in a towel and put him in a little loaf pan (obviously) while I googled “my dog brought me a baby bunny, what should I do?” Yes, there are websites devoted to the subject.
I ended up finding the number for a local wildlife rehabilitation farm. Here’s what I learned!
- Bunnies aren’t really bothered by the scent of a human (contrary to popular belief); they’re more likely to die from fright (you can literally give them a heart attack) or separation anxiety.
- If I could find the nest, I could put him back with his family. The mother rabbit comes by once a day (usually in the middle of the night) to check on them and feed them. If I couldn’t find the nest, the mother rabbit wouldn’t be able to find him and he would surely die.
- Bunnies are *extremely* difficult to raise into adulthood – even putting some fresh grass in the box could chill him to death because of the moisture.
- Bunnies need other bunnies. The rehabilitator told me that because they didn’t have any other rabbits at the facility, he would not likely survive even if I brought him in
I tried to get Rory to show me the nest, but because our yard is extremely overgrown in some parts, it was tough. I’m pretty sure I found the general location, based on the trampled down weeds and the type of stuff that was in Ror’s fur when she came inside. Truthfully, I don’t even know if there are any other bunnies left (based on the fact that Rory has been spending a lot of time outside, and this is the SECOND one in two days that she’s brought to us…. for all I know, she ate all the others)
I ended up taking the bunny out and putting him under some brush near where I thought the nest was. I feel horrible that I couldn’t find his home, but I guess there’s nothing I could have done. On one hand, I want to pray that he survived, but on the other – I know this is how nature works, and if all bunnies survived, we’d literally be tripping on them as we went about our daily lives. Plus, they can carry fleas and other nasties (Rory got fleas from one on Easter this year, of all days). And fleas can, among other things, give Rory a disease which could kill her.
So I guess it’s just the circle of life. It’s still hard to take, though! They’re so cuuuuuuuute.
