I feel melancholy today. It’s one of those days that it should be raining and I should be sipping cheap red wine or whiskey on the porch while I write songs that have no music (some like to call them poems but I don’t want to be a poet so they are just songs with no music). I don’t know why. I told Spencer last night that I was most likely becoming socially awkward from the isolation of being a stay-at-home mom (I’m still very grateful to be one but it’s just kind of lonely). And then I had a bad dream about one of my closest friends and I woke up in that mood. And then I got some sad news. And Jack wanted to play outside. So, out we went. And my mood only got worse.
I caught a bunny today. A tiny little baby bunny. I was sitting on my porch reading depressing things about the anniversary of 9/11and I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I knew right away what it was even though it was a small brown lump all the way across the yard that could’ve passed for a stick or mound of grass clippings from mowing the day before. It must’ve been the way it moved when I saw it in my periphery because now it was still as can be. Jack saw it too. And that was bad news for the bunny because he was so, so much closer to it than I was. Like rabbits tend to do, it let him get very close before it made a run (er, hop) for it. I was in fear for its life because he might’ve stomped its head. But, he didn’t. But when it tried to escape, he sure did try to keep up. By this time, I had caught up. And, with a one year old frantically running around my legs and a baby bunny running in circles around a tree, I reached down and scooped it up. And it cried. I have never heard a bunny cry, other than those coyote calls they make. It was sad. For a brief moment I wanted really badly to keep it. I could make it a pet. But it was so scared. So I tried to let Jack pet it because he was desperate to get his hands on that bunny but his pets are pretty rough and I imagine, terrifying. So, I let it go. And, when I did, it cried some more. And then Jack cried because he wanted that darn bunny. I picked him up and walked toward the house and there was a rabbit sniffing around. I think it must’ve heard the baby cry and come to investigate. For a second I wanted to run and grab the baby and bring it to its mommy but then I realized it might not be its mommy and it seems like I remember that a male rabbit will kill babies sometimes. So, I set Jack down and let him chase the big rabbit because I knew for sure he couldn’t catch that one. And then he started crying because the rabbit ran away. So, we went in the house and he went down for his nap. Then I came back to check on the bunny because, let’s face it, if an out of shape thirty year old in her house dress can catch one, it has to be a pretty dangerous world for him. I was relieved to see that the bunny had snuggled up to the tree behind some weeds and was nearly imperceptible.
So, I brought it a salad. I don’t know if it’s even big enough to eat but I assume once they are hopping around people’s yards unattended that they must not be on mama’s milk anymore. But I thought maybe it was too little to chew a carrot so I peeled some and cut up the peelings. I added a cherry tomato, a piece of apple and some spinach leaves, too.
Gosh, I’m getting soft. It must be hormones. Or the fact that I’m a mama now and basically an emotional wuss. But not that soft. Because for a second I did think about trying to catch another one and start a nice little backyard rabbit meat supply. But mainly I’m just moping around feeling guilty for scaring a tiny baby bunny.