The other afternoon, Andy was outside mowing the law when all of a sudden he yelled for me….several times. At first, I thought something was wrong. I’m a worrier, so I imagined the worst….missing toes, a bloody mess. I ran outside and much to my relief, all of Andy’s toes were still attached. Even better, he had the sweetest surprise for me.

While using the strimmer to trim the tall grass along the edge of our backyard fence, Andy uncovered a cotton-tail rabbit’s nest.

I never knew rabbits had nests. I thought they borrowed deep, cavernous holes in the ground, like Rabbit in Winnie the Pooh stories. Turns out that when they have a litter, rabbits hollow out a shallow hole in tall grasses, fill it with bits of their fur and dead grass and that’s where the baby bunnies stay for a few weeks, until they’re old enough to venture out to snack on clover and dandelions.

Andy hadn’t cut the grass in a couple of weeks so the conditions were perfect for a momma rabbit to have her brood. I guess the commotion of the strimmer scattered the litter of baby bunnies from their nest…six of them, in fact. Thank goodness Andy didn’t inadvertently step on them…or worse!

Man, were they cute! Cute with a capital C!

I was suddenly transported to my childhood, when I used to try and save injured or abandoned baby birds. I wanted to be a vet for the longest time. I grew up in a wooded area in a suburb just outside Boston and we were constantly playing outside as kids. I had chickens, several parakeets and a dog. Our neighbor had a horse for a couple of years, which doesn’t sound outrageous unless you saw our neighborhood. We were on a dead end street near lots of woods, but certainly not farm country, where you might expect to find chickens and a horse. They kept the horse in their garage, which they turned into a makeshift barn and their yard became the horse’s running ground.

Oh, those were good times.

I remember I once tried nursing a baby blue jay back to health. I’d found her perched on a low lying branch in a bush, with a hungry cat standing beneath, just waiting for her to fall. I had her for over a week, and she did pretty well. I was teaching her to fly by putting her on my finger and lifting her up and down to make her flap her wings. Whenever she heard me coming she would open her mouth wide and stretch out her tiny neck, anticipating the mix of raw hamburger and baby food I would give her. But, sadly, she didn’t make it. I came home from school to find her lifeless body near the tipped over bowl of water. I was devastated. It was my first real loss. We buried her in the backyard under an old pine tree. I sulked for weeks.

My first instinct upon finding the six bunnies was to put them in a cardboard box lined with old grass clippings, so we could nurse them to adulthood, like I’d tried to do with my sweet blue jay. We collected the baby bunnies and put them in a box, but something held me back. Maybe it was the memory of my blue jay.

Somehow between childhood and adulthood, we lose that wild abandon that lets us believe we can do anything and rational thought takes over. With the bunnies safely in the box and out of harm’s way, I went inside to check the internet and make sure I was doing the right thing.

Turns out my first reaction, although well-intentioned, wasn’t the best thing for the bunnies. They all looked healthy and seemed strong, so chances were good that their momma had just left them for a bit. We found their nest and put them back where they belonged, covered under grass clippings. But, we couldn’t resist snapping one quick photo of the three youngest…

I have freakishly small hands, so that should give you some idea of how tiny they were, especially the one on the far right, which seemed to be the runt of the litter. After we let them go, we did some more research, and turns out I probably shouldn’t have touched them at all. Putting them back in their nest was definitely the right thing to do, even though all I wanted to do was snuggle with them and dress them in tiny clothes, like I used to do with my chickens.  I’m pretty sure there’s a photo of this somewhere. If I can find it, I’ll share. It’s pretty hysterical!

Apparently, it is very hard to rehabilitate wild rabbits and well-meaning people who try often kill them with their kindness. So, I reluctantly left the sweet fluffy balls of bouncing joy to fend for themselves….with a bowl of ice water and some clovers nearby, in case they needed a little help. Sometimes you just can’t take the little girl out of the woman.

A couple of times this week, I’ve seen an adult rabbit hopping through our yard and I like to think it’s the momma. According to my research, mother rabbits leave their babies during the day and come back at night to feed them. We’ve been checking every day since finding the bunnies and after that first day, the runt was the only one to stick around. But, even now, three days later, he too has left the nest. I’m hoping that they are all safe and feel they have a haven here in our yard, where bunnies are always welcome!