Mark was in the yard doing whatever it is guys do in the yard (the shed was open, yard tools were all over, and that is as much as I know) and I was in the kitchen thinking dreamy thoughts about the ranch fried potatoes I had sizzling in the skillet and getting the chicken ready for the grill. It was a b-e-a-utiful day. Windows open. Home breezy. We just had a very successful family St. Pat’s party the day before and Mark had the grand idea of ending our weekend with a romantic backyard BBQ-for-Two. I had spent the day barefoot and comfy in my favorite jeans and lacy tank and was feeling Pretty. Darn. Good.
Then, Mark comes up to the kitchen window and explains that the neighborhood cat had just attacked one of the bunnies that lives in our yard. NOOOOOOO! I was so upset! Mark chased the cat away and I went out and took a look at Bunny. His legs were injured, but he made his way to a sit-up position and seemed alert.
After calling PetCo and getting a wildlife emergency number (they didn’t pick up their phone), I went back outside and Mark and I pretty much assumed Bunny was done for. I couldn’t bare it. After staring at Bunny the entire time Mark was flippin’ the chicken on the grill, I said “We have to try to save him…somehow.” So, we called my Nana, who is the best wild animal rescuer I know. She told me what to do. So, Mark grabbed the camera and I grabbed the necessary materials (because, you know, Mark and I document every freaking thing we do!). Box (which I cut little holes in), old rags, grass, gloves, and an old towel. Then, Mark informed me that I was going to catch Bunny. SAY WHAT!?! I did not think so! I was too afraid to hurt Bunny. I wanted Mark to do it so he could be the one hurting Bunny, but, I put on the gloves (so my skin would not touch him by accident) and grabbed the towel.
Bunny flipped around (he could not move well, both legs were injured pretty bad) and I knew I was scaring him senseless, but I also knew that getting him in that box was his only chance... that mean cat was across the street watching and waiting to get the chance for another attack...Mark kept scaring him off. I just kept saying to Mark "I'm going to hurt him, I'm going to hurt him!" and Mark, so sweetly, kept cheering me on and assuring me that hurting him more to get him into the box would be so much better than leaving him for the cat. So, after two tries, I got Bunny to calm down by completely covering him with the towel and then scooping him up as gently as possible and then setting him in the box, using the towel to cushion his body.
I carried Bunny in his box and we situated him in the garage, safe from the mean cat. Checking on him throughout the rest of the evening, I was beyond thrilled that he was still alive as we settled into bed for the night. Unsure as to whether or not Bunny had survived the night, I decided it would be best to wait until Mark had left for work before I checked on Bunny this morning. If he didn't make it, even though I was aware he might not, I knew I would be very upset. So, after sending Mark off, I went to the garage and, like a scared little girl (lol), I slowly opened the garage door. CRAP! The lid was popped off the box. BUNNY HAD ESCAPED! I was panicked, thinking he had hopped out and was somewhere in our garage either suffering or dead. So, I tip toed up to the box and peeked in. NOPE, HE WAS THERE! He had just turned himself around in the box, and in doing so had removed the lid a bit :)
Bunny was breathing well and awake, but obviously very dehydrated. I talked softly to him and told him I was going to take him to go get better. He lifted his head up ever so slightly and looked at me. It was probably ridiculous to talk to Bunny, but he looked so scared. I couldn't reach anyone at the rescue number PetCo had given me, so I looked up a different one and called them. Then, I called Mark to let him know that Bunny had survived the night. YAY!
So, I put Bunny in the car. The Mama in me said it would be best to buckle him in...
... and we were on our way to the Wildlife Rescue Clinic!!! I kept the stereo off because I was worried the music would stress him out even more. Every once in awhile I could hear him tossing around, but for the most part he was still. When I pulled up to the clinic I removed the towel from his box and took the last pictures of Bunny...
You can see where the mean cat got Bunny, at his knee and the back of his leg. MEAN CAT! (If he knows what is good for him, he'll stay the heck out of my yard!)
I carried Bunny in his box into the clinic, where he was immediately taken back to the vet. As I was filling out the paperwork, I was told that Bunny was not in any immediate danger and they would hydrate him right away before giving him a complete physical. They said they would do everything possible to help him survive and would release him back into the wild if/when he makes a complete recovery. They showed me pictures of other animals they've helped, including a squirrel who lived at the clinic for several weeks with a cast on his broken leg. I felt sure that if Bunny had a chance, these people would give it to him.
I left Bunny feeling optimistic, knowing we did the best we could, and although conscience of the reality that he still might not survive his wounds, I'm still hoping. I was told to call in the morning and ask for an update on "Bunny Butler".
Say a prayer for Bunny Butler, ya'll... this little guy won my heart :)
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