I got a call Sunday night that BunBun was in trouble. OK, not exactly trouble, more like creating trouble for me by digging under a neighbor’s rental property. Never did I think when she hopped out the pet door to freedom over 4 years ago, that my white rabbit would be my trouble maker.
Granted, I was as surprised as any and all that she not only survived, but thrived in the wild. In my bit of land next to several 100 acres of forest, she became my wild white hare (with black spots). Living under the storage shed, eating the dandelions in the front yard, napping under trees, coming to the back door to check for vegetable scraps and in general, living her own version of Watership Down.
Then recently, a friend asked me to take her buck rabbit, er, Bunny (now renamed Thumper). She’d had a baby and the rabbit was acting aggressive towards the infant, jealous of the intruder. I agreed to take him in, my idea was to keep in as in inside bunny, putting him out with the birds in the aviary during the day.
This worked for about a month, until one day (cueing “Sweet Mystery of Life”) he sensed-smelled-heard BunBun at the bottom of the porch steps. In three seconds he was through the pet door, in two seconds he was off the porch flying through the air and in one second their relationship was consummated.
As an aside, Rabbits aren’t known for foreplay, that’s for sure and it appears, female bunnies don’t even bother to stop eating grass while it’s happening. Word to the wise fellas.
Since then, they’ve been living their own version of Watership Down, except with one minor exception. BunBun became pregnant (of course) and instead of using under the storage shed as her nursery, she chose to go hopping through the woods to neighbor’s and dig under their home.
Which is why I got a phone call.
The second one this week. The other was about my rooster, Rambo, who has decided to also go through the woods to sit on another neighbor’s porch all day. His crowing combined with his pooping was making him poultry non grada. So he now is literally hand placed in a side yard by me to spend his day on that porch, instead of her porch.
So, one rooster under control and one bad bunny about to be caught and/or trapped (in a Hav-a-Hart of course) until I can get Thumper neutered.
In all of this, I remember when all around me was rural, trees, farms and wide open spaces. Gradually, over time, people have moved in and in the process, our perceived space has declined in turn. I’m trying to be a responsible pet owner, surprised yet not, that animals would gravitate to the perceived safety of humans instead of to the freedom of the woods. A house is safer than a shed is safer than a log. A porch looking out over another house feels safer than a porch and yard connected to the home of raccoons, foxes, coyotes and hawks.
It appears that often safety does trump freedom, though my job appears to be finding the balance. Between allowing adequate space or not imprisoning a now wild hare and keeping them safe from predators and me safe from unhappy neighbors. Maybe that is another way humans are different than animals. We’re aware of the differences and often, will make the choice between one or the other, fully cognizant restrictions and losses or of the risks and dangers.
But we choose, we don’t have owners who choose for us and try to find the best solution in their godlike fashion without our imput. We aren’t livestock, or rogue pets, or semi-feral critters in need of protection or control to keep our owners out of hot water with the neighbors. We’re human… free to chose lazy saftey or dangerous freedom.
Now I just wish I government would get a clue.
