Cowardice

By Misty Nuckolls

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

I’m a coward, and a hypocrite, and all before 8 in the morning. It’s gonna be a long day.

I always swore I was going to be direct with my child about matters of nature and death. I grew up hunting with my dad on one hand, and breeding cats with my mom on the other–I was never a child who had any illusions about animals, their place in the world or my dinner plate, or their deaths. I think I’m pretty healthy, so my husband and I decided we’d raise our daughter the same way.

Until the baby bunny, that is.

This past weekend our post-war suburban neighborhood underwent something of an unprompted, unofficial ritual, the First Mowing of Spring. It must have flushed out some wildlife, because yesterday evening we found a small juvenile rabbit crouching terrified in our lawn, not even enough instinct yet to run when people approached it. The neighborhood is overrun with large cats; he wouldn’t have lasted the night. And I have this thing about helpless infant creatures. So sue me.

We followed Operation Wildlife’s instructions, caught it with a towel, didn’t let the kid pet it, didn’t feed it, and closed it up in a box, which we put on top of the fridge, out of the way of curious three-year-old girls. Since their intake facility was closed when we called, we planned to take the poor thing in when my husband got home from work today.

Around 11 I was sitting in the living room enjoying a glass of wine and some Aqua Teen Hunger Force, when suddenly I look down and there’s a baby bunny on the floor. WTF? Checked the box–yeah, that’s our bunny. So I caught him again, put him back in his box, weighted the top down this time, and poked some airholes.

This morning Penny wakes up, and of course, wants to see the bunny first thing. I open the box and . . . dead bunny. Stiff, already. Oh, shit.

“The baby bunny’s sick right now, baby. We have to give him lots of quiet, so we can’t look at him now, okay?”

“Okay.”

Sick. Yeah. I wimped out. Instead of being Spartan Mom, and explaining to her about how sometimes animals we try to help just don’t make it, I told her it was sick. Then called my husband, and we conspired together. The bunny will be “sick” all day, and he will dispose of it while she’s napping this afternoon. When she wakes up, we’ll tell her Daddy had to take the bunny to the bunny hospital.

Well, hell. I feel bad enough already about the poor thing dying in my care without the kid going around all day brokenhearted. I’ll be Spartan Mom another day, perhaps with roadkill that wasn’t my fault.

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Posted by billy (Billy Keefe) on April 29, 2008 at 9:04 a.m. (Suggest removal)

Oh, bummer. I caught a baby bunny when I was a kid and slept with him in my bed for about a week before my mom caught wind of him. Literally, she wanted to know what the hamster smell was in my bedroom. I came clean and she made me release him (to the cats). She said, "Just imagine the type of life he would lead if we kept him in a cage." I imagine he didn't made it too long in the wild. He hopped behind me as I walked away, then ducked under a bush and shook.

Baby bunnies are so sweet.

Posted by DOTDOT (anonymous) on April 29, 2008 at 2:01 p.m. (Suggest removal)

A neighbor found a little bunny a while ago (last year?). Same circumstances. When it died, my spawn said "Cool! Can I see it?"

My first asshole comment had something to do with whether it would fit in the garbage disposal.

Pray for me.

Posted by mitzibel (Misty Nuckolls) on April 29, 2008 at 4:42 p.m. (Suggest removal)

Heh. A friend on MySpace rehabs hawks and owls; I was saying it's too bad she's so far away, or I could have brought her babies a snack.

Posted by beatle919 (Marcy McGuffie) on April 30, 2008 at 12:33 p.m. (Suggest removal)

Oh, it's all good. Sometimes it's *easier* to protect the youth! A little white lie never hurts now and then.

You're a brave gal. While bunnies are cute and cuddly, I'm terrified to handle any sort of wild life...I get a serious case of the creepy crawlies. Thank goodness I haven't seen any woodchucks in my backyard this year...or raccoons for that matter. Ugh. Marcy doesn't do well with the wildlife that seems to frequent her back and front yard...

Dots - I pray for you every single day, dear. :P

Posted by TheEleventhStephanie (anonymous) on April 30, 2008 at 9:27 p.m. (Suggest removal)

The Great Goldfish Switch of 1979 will never be forgotten. RIP Reddy.

Posted by ladylaw (Terry Bush) on May 1, 2008 at 11:58 a.m. (Suggest removal)

Oh. How sad. Poor baby bunny. Poor baby human! I am still traumatized over the baby bunny that ran into our garage (about 5 years ago) during a mowing - I couldn't find it to shoo it back into the outdoors, and later found it's corpse in the garage. I know that death is all around, and will eventually come for us all. But knowing it and dealing with it in a calm rational manner are two entirely different things.

Don't worry about not being hard/Spartan enough. If you were tough all the time, you'd probably raise a very traumatized and pretty unsocial person (think how hard the mothers of Sparta really were and type of person(s) they produced!).

Posted by Dazie (Aileen Dingus) on May 1, 2008 at 9:59 p.m. (Suggest removal)

LadyLaw- You don't like hot men in leather BVDs??

Posted by ladylaw (Terry Bush) on May 2, 2008 at 10:55 a.m. (Suggest removal)

Not as much as they like EACH OTHER! LOL.....

Cowardice

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