A Baby (Newborn) Bunny

Mollie pointed to the floor, with a freaking out expression on her face. Oh, no, I thought. Another casualty courtesy of Catja. At first glamce, it looked like a dying mouse, crawling in a last effort to escape a painful fate. Catja had had this poor creature in her clutches and had almost, but not quite killed it, and now it was suffering and what was I to do about that?

I gently took the creature into my hands and inspected it to see if there were obvious injuries which there were not. Then I realized it looked nothing like a mouse – the ears were too long, and the tail was extremely short, and that it could only be a very young, probably newborn, probably less than a day old, bunny. It looked to be a boy bunny, from what I could tell. I could be wrong. Mollie, in a heightened state of excitement, all the while repeating giddily, “We’re keeping it! We’re keeping it!” ran downstairs to retrieve our animal carrier. It already had a towel in it for when we take Catja to the vet, but per instructions she found on some random baby bunny care and feeding website, she covered the cage with another towel after I awkwardly placed the bunny into it, onto the towel. The bunny had been nosing at my palm, which I interpreted to be a sign of wanting to nurse. How were we to feed the bunny? Mollie’s google search also brought up an image of a newborn bunny, which looked identical to our foundling. How had this bunny gotten into our house? Catja was nowhere in sight. About ten minutes earlier, when I had been in the midst of brushing my teeth, I heard what I thought was the squealing of an animal. Not a bird, not a squirrel. I could not help wondering what Catja had been up to, then dismissed the thought, because of course the sound could have been anything, there are so many dogs about, and other cats, and all sorts of rodents and children besides who make all sorts of noises at all times.

But once I realized about the bunny, my imagination began to work again. How HAD the bunny found its way to and inside our door? I had been seated at dining room table, as I am now, when the bunny had entered through the partly open sliding glass door to the back deck, which also opens into the dining room, where the table is only a couple of feet from the door. The deck is raised – a bunch of wooden stairs lead up to it – and it is highly doubtful that the mama bunny had nested on the deck, so I can only speculate that someone or something had brought the bunny to the deck and the door, and maybe even into the dining room. This very young bunny would not have been capable of getting himself up the stairs, nor would this have been his desire, and had he been dropped on the deck, in order to get into dining room, he’d have had to climb about four or five inches up a small step , crawled along it for another four inches, then up another inch, then drop down an inch to the dining room floor. Not only is this bunny weak, but also probably effectively blind, with its closed eyes. So had Catja deposited bunny and abandoned him? This would have been uncharacteristic for our tenacious cat, who loves to torture her captives – methods include carrying in her mouth, cornering them, chasing them, and batting them around, alive, half dead and dead until finally losing interest in the play and getting down to the business of eating the head and leaving the body, then later finishing off the remains for a, perhaps, midnight snack. I cannot imagine why Catja would not have followed her usual routine, unless she had been distracted by the knowledge that there were more of these, in a bunny nest in the yard, which may be where the sound I had heard had originated. I am frankly scared to know the truth, because Catja is still out there somewhere. Anyone who is a parent knows that when it is a little too quiet, something sinister must be afoot.

Anyway, at this moment, I do not know if “our” bunny is even still alive. Mollie and cb are off getting baby bunny feeding supplies – I had found a website with explicit instructions – I made my first egregious error already – had not washed my hands prior to picking up bunny, thereby permitting the bacteria on my hands to wreak a horrible, probably fatal infection because the bunny’s tiny, inchoate immune system without its mama’s antibody-rich colostrum, would not mount a sufficient, if any, defense. I am afraid to checking on bunny – it would be terrified, possibly to death. I believe this poor bunny’s chance of survival through the night is slim to none. He is awfully damn cute, though. Would it not be amazing if he did survive?

The troops are back.

This entry was posted on Thursday, July 23rd, 2015 at 9:57 pm and is filed under Bunnies, cats, compassion, Eating Behavior, Nutrition. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.

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