(continued from Part I, My Little Run-Away)
Where has the run-away bunny gone? Into what 18- to 24-inch snowdrift could he be hiding, this Winter of 2009-2010?
Well, there’s snow all over the place. He can’t get too far, I say walking the paths cut through our lower yard and patio, looking for those tiny footprints that might show a direction Cwazy may have gone along the human-prepared path.
I search and search with no luck. Decide to check the hilltop area where the chickens are at rest. There, behind the shed, I see prints. Can’t tell if it’s a bird, chicken or a rabbit made the prints. Hey, I’m a city boy, grew up with nothing but asphalt in the back yard of my North Philadelphia home. How am I supposed to know the difference?
Don’t know how long I look before giving up. I went into the warm house, but couldn’t rest. At nightfall, I grabbed a flashlight and searched again for the rabbit. Still no sign of him where ever I would flash the light. Not a sound to betray his whereabouts. He’s definitely gone.
I slept in wakeful fits that night. Restless. Feeling guilty for not doing enough for the little animal. Felt terrible the next day. Difficult to enjoy feeding the wild birds that flew onto the patio and nearby tree. I see their movement as the critters come toward the food I have just placed for them. I notice slight movement to my rear — in the rabbit’s favorite spot beneath the wooden chaise lounge. I dare not look. Or hope.
“Cwazy” I sing out. “YOU CWAZY WABBIT,” comes next as a tear of joy surfaces from somewhere deep inside of me.
The bunny made it through the night! He must have burrowed into a snow bank or dug into a crevice somewhere in the back yard.
Here he is, sitting up — front paws out as he rests on his back legs — looking straight at me.
“Come here, you cwazy critter,” I say, reaching into his bags for crunch food and Timothy Hay, as well as a change of regular water for the bowl that froze over night. He scampers over, jumps into his cage and chows down as if there was nothing unusual for him to have pulled an “all-nighter” outside of his home. Nuthin’ to it, at all.
* * * * * * * *
Well, he has now had two nights. Two nights in a row we let Cwazy run free in the yard and return to his cage for food and water in the morning. His white fur blends in with the snow, and I have little fear a predator will see him from above. Let him run free for now. Let him enjoy the snow. They’ll be time to round him up later. Time to return him to his home. Time for most of us this Winter to “burrow” inside and “flourish” later come Spring.
Let’s enjoy the day for what ever it has to offer us.