At times I believe that I am Mother Nature. No, on second thought, I'm much kinder than her. Call me Mother Nurture.
Last weekend I realized just how severe my 'problem' has gotten. Let me backtrack. Eleven days ago our dog made us very aware that we have yet another nest of baby rabbits beside the stairs of the deck. (Last year, there were 7 baby rabbits born on the other side of the stairs). Now, every time Nikki goes outside, she immediately runs to the nest - which is basically just a hole in the ground covered in a mixture of grasses and rabbit fur - and begins to dig her nose in to find them and tries to pull back the grass with her paw. The babies are laying nestled in a tight little ball just inches below their covering.
Here is a picture of them at just about a day or two old - their little bodies devoid of hair.
On the first day we found the babies, I was so afraid about Nikki's clawing, that I foolishly built a barrier around the nest, leaving room for Mother Rabbit to get in.
(I ask you, is this a picture of someone in their right mind?) By that evening however, I was so worried that the mother would never come back with all those chairs around, that I moved them all out of the way again. I was most concerned that I had not seen the mother anywhere, and wondering if she had abandoned them. Last year, the mother wasn't afraid and would nurse the babies while we were nearby. So I did some internet research and was relieved to learn that initially the mother rabbit only nurses once a day, most often in the middle of the night when no one is around, and then she stays far from the nest so as not to attract attention to it. (But why didn't she build it under the deck away from the dog????!!)
Each day, I pulled back the covering to ensure the babies were still alive, growing, and unharmed by the cats in the neighbourhood. Momma must have been caring for them. After a week they began to grow fur though their eyes were not yet open. I wanted so badly to gently stroke them or hold them, but I dared not.
Last weekend, we had visiting out of town relatives, so we invited family over for a BBQ. Of course our dog had to socialize with everyone on the deck which was fine when she kept distracted with the copious food that was all around her. But then Momma Rabbit decided to show up. Maybe she was concerned with all these people right around her babies, but she started getting braver and trying to make her way to the nest even with everyone sitting nearby. Any time someone stood up, she would hop away, and then slowly ease her way back again. We were all watching her. But then Nikki spotted her. Off the dog shot down the stairs with me in hot pursuit.
It was a slow-mo moment.
My hand was just an inch from her collar but I couldn't grab her as I chased her down the steps and tried to hang onto a plate of food at the same time. All I could attempt to grab was her tail and I held onto it for a brief moment, only to be left with some dog hair in my hand. How cruel was that to grab my dog's tail in the heat of the moment?! Hamburger and salads slid off my plate unto the ground as I chased the dog and yelled at her to stop. (Like a retriever would stop chasing a rabbit!). Poor Momma. She zig-zagged across the lawn with Nikki (the arthritic dog) right behind her, but she squeezed through the fence to the safety of the neighbours yard.
When others began picking up my food off the ground, I realized how stupid I must have looked and how I could have injured myself frantically trying to grab the dog while negotiating stairs and balancing paper plate piled with food. Thankfully no video cameras were capturing the moment.
I carried on conversation with my nephew and, perhaps with his psychological bent he sensed in pity, my need for therapy. He wondered if I might like to nurture some duck eggs that didn't hatch for a mother duck on his university campus. I began to picture a large pond in the yard with a family of ducks, but someone offered information that mother ducks will abandon eggs that are not going to hatch. Dream dissolved.
A little later, my daughter and her friend arrived to the BBQ and I'm not sure I even said hello before I began into the story of the rabbits. They looked at each other and broke into laughter immediately. My daughter interrupted and said to her friend, "You see? I told you she'd start talking about rabbits!!" It was then that it hit me that I'm a little too possessed in my desire to nurture nature. Apparently, as I was in the driveway saying goodbye to some of the relatives, the mother rabbit nursed her babies as the rest watched from the deck - with Nikki safely on leash. I felt better.
The next day, Momma Rabbit began pulling dead grass at the back of the yard and piling it over a hole she dug in the garden. We thought she might be planning to move her babies away from all the commotion, but they haven't moved, so perhaps it was her desperate attempt to draw attention away from her babies.
Here is what the bunnies look like now. Time will tell how many are in the 'pile'. Don't you just want to stroke that little head and scratch behind the ears? Very shortly, they will begin to scatter around the yard and we will have to keep the dog on a leash, until they move on. Otherwise, they will end up in Nikki's mouth for sure.
Much later in the evening of the BBQ, we saw a skunk on the front lawn. I'll have to do a little research about their nesting habits and see how eager I am to risk injury chasing a dog pursuing an odd looking striped kitty. Hopefully Momma skunk runs when pursued... with tail between legs!
