DIscovered a nest of baby bunnies in our vegetable garden this afternoon.
Unfortunately, so did Nala.
I was letting the dogs out early-mid afternoon today, as usual. When it was time to call them in, Nala, who often sneaks into the vegetable garden through the wire gate that doesn't close well, seemed supremely interested in sniffing a particular spot, and didn't want to leave. I called her more sharply, and eventually she slunk out ... with something in her mouth. I yelled at her again and she dropped it, something rodent-like and small. I first thought she'd caught a mouse but, nope, it was a baby bunny, eyes and ears still closed and only a little longer than my middle finger from nose to tail. He flailed on the grass for a minute, but by the time I reached him, he was still. At first I thought he was just traumatized, mentally, as there were no visible marks anywhere, but when I went to scoop him up onto a board (using leaves so I'd touch him as little as possible), I realized he wasn't moving at all. Didn't react when I gently rolled him back onto the spot where the nest clearly was, as opposed to his nest-mate, who had escaped capture and had already burrowed back underneath all the fluff. I went inside for a little bit, then came out to see if he'd moved. If he was breathing. Nope. :-(
When I picked up the kids from school, I told them there was good news: we had a nest of adorable bunnies in the veggie garden - and bad news: Nala got overly-curious about one and had killed him. (I don't now if she damaged his spine or his throat or what - like I said, there wasn't any visible mark on the bunny at all, so whatever it was, it must've been internal and very quick. Either that or she literally scared him to death. Edit: apparently baby bunnies CAN die of fright.) I thought they'd probably be sad and disappointed in their favorite dog, but MiniPlu actually started weeping. Bunnies are one of her favorite animals, maybe because her first several stuffed animals were bunnies, and her most cherished one is a bunny as well.
When we got home, I let them put on rubber gloves and touch and hold the baby bunny - how many times do you get to do that? - and say goodbye. I felt oddly compelled to remind them to be gentle, even if the bunny no longer cared. I showed them, gently parting the fluff with a stick, how you could just barely see the butt of the remaining baby from where he was burrowed deep into the nest.
MiniPlu wanted to bury him, but the vegetable garden was out of the question, since Will's going to rototill there in a few weeks. (Hopefully the Bunny Family will be out by then.) I chose a spot in the front yard under a large tree where resource competition and lack of sufficient sunlight has left the "lawn" totally devoid of grass. Dug a small hole amongst the roots. MiniPlu had a terrible time letting him go and saying goodbye; I ended up quoting the beginning and ending lines from this poem (all I could remember) to point out that Roger - the name she had chosen and, no, she's never seen the movie - was no longer "there" to try to take the sting out of putting him 6 feet inches under. Eventually she was able to gently place him in and we covered him up. MiniPlu collected a bunch of small rocks to decorate the dirt mound after.
Two had come into the house while MiniPlu and I were out front - leaving Nala unattended in the back yard. Even though I had tried to shore up the gate, she had gotten into the garden AGAIN and had actually outright dug up the nest this time. When MiniPlu saw the remaining baby tossed out, she cried and CRIED, thinking he, too, was about to die. By the time I got outside, however, I saw that there were actually THREE tiny residents, not one, and they were still moving. When I put on a glove so I could put them back in the remains of their nest, they kicked and squirmed pretty convincingly, so I hope they all escaped injury. Repairing the nest without burying them too much, and finding enough remaining straw and fluff to keep them protected (you could see them shivering a little) was difficult, but we did the best we could. MiniPlu wibbled about them the rest of the evening, however. Were the babies warm enough? Would they survive? Would Mama Bunny come back and accept them? We'd used rubber gloves, but maybe Mama would be freaked out by the loss of her baby and the disheveled nest. Or even the scent of gloves.
This time, we've placed three deck chairs in front of the veggie garden gate, arranging them so the legs of one chair block the under-the-chair route of another, AND using a few old boards to block gate gaps. Nala's going to be leashed or strongly supervised when she makes her outside jaunts for a little bit. Hopefully that will help.
I'm not sure how best to check on the survivors. I don't want to continue to disturb the nest, but we can't see into it to see who's alive and who isn't unless we do. How will we be able to tell if Mama came back to tend them? If they're warm enough? There's a local wildlife rescue I could contact if need be (I took a batch of baby bunnies there years ago, when Cassie found their nest in a large flowerpot on our patio), but I'm not sure how to tell if or when we're at that point, vs if it's just better to leave them be and hope nature takes over in a life-affirming way. I mean, seriously, it's not like there aren't plenty of rabbits in our neighborhood already, and I've sometimes been rather cross with them for eating my crocuses or nibbling my green beans down to stubs. But they're also adorable. I want them to live. And I don't want MiniPlu to have to experience this. :-(
Back to your regularly scheduled life.
I was letting the dogs out early-mid afternoon today, as usual. When it was time to call them in, Nala, who often sneaks into the vegetable garden through the wire gate that doesn't close well, seemed supremely interested in sniffing a particular spot, and didn't want to leave. I called her more sharply, and eventually she slunk out ... with something in her mouth. I yelled at her again and she dropped it, something rodent-like and small. I first thought she'd caught a mouse but, nope, it was a baby bunny, eyes and ears still closed and only a little longer than my middle finger from nose to tail. He flailed on the grass for a minute, but by the time I reached him, he was still. At first I thought he was just traumatized, mentally, as there were no visible marks anywhere, but when I went to scoop him up onto a board (using leaves so I'd touch him as little as possible), I realized he wasn't moving at all. Didn't react when I gently rolled him back onto the spot where the nest clearly was, as opposed to his nest-mate, who had escaped capture and had already burrowed back underneath all the fluff. I went inside for a little bit, then came out to see if he'd moved. If he was breathing. Nope. :-(
When I picked up the kids from school, I told them there was good news: we had a nest of adorable bunnies in the veggie garden - and bad news: Nala got overly-curious about one and had killed him. (I don't now if she damaged his spine or his throat or what - like I said, there wasn't any visible mark on the bunny at all, so whatever it was, it must've been internal and very quick. Either that or she literally scared him to death. Edit: apparently baby bunnies CAN die of fright.) I thought they'd probably be sad and disappointed in their favorite dog, but MiniPlu actually started weeping. Bunnies are one of her favorite animals, maybe because her first several stuffed animals were bunnies, and her most cherished one is a bunny as well.
When we got home, I let them put on rubber gloves and touch and hold the baby bunny - how many times do you get to do that? - and say goodbye. I felt oddly compelled to remind them to be gentle, even if the bunny no longer cared. I showed them, gently parting the fluff with a stick, how you could just barely see the butt of the remaining baby from where he was burrowed deep into the nest.
MiniPlu wanted to bury him, but the vegetable garden was out of the question, since Will's going to rototill there in a few weeks. (Hopefully the Bunny Family will be out by then.) I chose a spot in the front yard under a large tree where resource competition and lack of sufficient sunlight has left the "lawn" totally devoid of grass. Dug a small hole amongst the roots. MiniPlu had a terrible time letting him go and saying goodbye; I ended up quoting the beginning and ending lines from this poem (all I could remember) to point out that Roger - the name she had chosen and, no, she's never seen the movie - was no longer "there" to try to take the sting out of putting him 6 feet inches under. Eventually she was able to gently place him in and we covered him up. MiniPlu collected a bunch of small rocks to decorate the dirt mound after.
Two had come into the house while MiniPlu and I were out front - leaving Nala unattended in the back yard. Even though I had tried to shore up the gate, she had gotten into the garden AGAIN and had actually outright dug up the nest this time. When MiniPlu saw the remaining baby tossed out, she cried and CRIED, thinking he, too, was about to die. By the time I got outside, however, I saw that there were actually THREE tiny residents, not one, and they were still moving. When I put on a glove so I could put them back in the remains of their nest, they kicked and squirmed pretty convincingly, so I hope they all escaped injury. Repairing the nest without burying them too much, and finding enough remaining straw and fluff to keep them protected (you could see them shivering a little) was difficult, but we did the best we could. MiniPlu wibbled about them the rest of the evening, however. Were the babies warm enough? Would they survive? Would Mama Bunny come back and accept them? We'd used rubber gloves, but maybe Mama would be freaked out by the loss of her baby and the disheveled nest. Or even the scent of gloves.
This time, we've placed three deck chairs in front of the veggie garden gate, arranging them so the legs of one chair block the under-the-chair route of another, AND using a few old boards to block gate gaps. Nala's going to be leashed or strongly supervised when she makes her outside jaunts for a little bit. Hopefully that will help.
I'm not sure how best to check on the survivors. I don't want to continue to disturb the nest, but we can't see into it to see who's alive and who isn't unless we do. How will we be able to tell if Mama came back to tend them? If they're warm enough? There's a local wildlife rescue I could contact if need be (I took a batch of baby bunnies there years ago, when Cassie found their nest in a large flowerpot on our patio), but I'm not sure how to tell if or when we're at that point, vs if it's just better to leave them be and hope nature takes over in a life-affirming way. I mean, seriously, it's not like there aren't plenty of rabbits in our neighborhood already, and I've sometimes been rather cross with them for eating my crocuses or nibbling my green beans down to stubs. But they're also adorable. I want them to live. And I don't want MiniPlu to have to experience this. :-(
Back to your regularly scheduled life.