The kids found a baby bunny on our front porch this afternoon. Clearly a victim of Guillermo the attack cat. It's so sad because it's not very old (it's eyes are still closed). Here's where the hard part comes in...it's still alive. Like I told Dad on the phone, if the kids (mine and a couple of neighbor kids) hadn't seen it, I would have picked it up and put it behind our bushes. I would have felt guilty about it but the last thing I need is to figure out what to do with an injured baby bunny. Of course, I ended up having to figure out what to do with an injured baby bunny anyway. It's currently in a box with some towels in it, waiting for the wildlife rehab center to call me back. I can't do anything with it today, so if it makes it through the night, I'm sure the kids and I will be taking it there in the morning.
Why, oh why, do I have to have such a soft spot for animals?!?
UPDATE: Operation Wildlife called me back and told me to keep him warm until I can get him there in the morning. I asked about feeding and they said that they will probably have to tube feed him and that's not something I can do at home. He did suggest putting some small apple chunks in with him so that maybe the bunny can nibble on that (probbly not, though). Ugh. Doubtful that I'll be able to sleep tonight worrying about this poor thing.
3 comments:
Because you are you, that's why. The same thing happens to me.
Aww, I hope that he makes it.
That's sad. Good luck, little bunny.
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