Last week we smelled something new in the corner of the yard we can't get to because of the fence. It's a jungle out there, nobody mows it, so it's nice and weedy, at least till this past weekend. We started paying a lot of attention to that little corner, & since we couldn't tell mom what we smelled (she's not that fluent in Siberian), she got all worried that maybe there was a snake in the grass or something equally life-threatening. She made dad go out there with a weed-whaker to chop it down to size. No snakes.
BUT about a half-hour later mom came running cause she could hear screaming like someone was jumping up & down on a squeakie toy and saw we were trying our best to press ourselves through the grid openings in the fence. She looked over and saw a little brown critter rolling around on the grass. Its eyes were closed so it had no idea where it was. We were trying to convince it to come play with us, but mom quickly stuck US inside. Can woo believe it?
She tried to grab it & stick it back inside a little hole in the ground that she could see, now that the weeds were gone. Wascully wabbit that it was, it rolled under the fence & stopped under a plank where she couldn't reach it.
Then she came in & called our vet's emergency line & then another emergency line and then another.... you get the picture. She finally reached a woman who does cottontail wabbit wescue work. Believe it or not, she is the state's official rehabilitator/specialist for cottontail rabbits.
OK, so it turns out that this woman lives on the next island over but it just so happens that she will be meeting some other folks for a rabbit-exchange in just a couple hours right next to the place mom gets edibles for the cold box. The lady told her how to "prepare" the baby bunnies for transport.
Now we would loved to have shown her how WE "prepare baby bunnies" for transport, but we couldn't convince her, in spite of looking our cutest and wooing ever so politely.
So the bite-size bunnies got scooped out of the ground & put in a box and whisked off to cross the Bay to be raised by bipeds till they're old enough to be on their own. Mom did get a couple pictures by holding the camera over the box, she "didn't want to disturb them", so these aren't the best photos she's ever taken.
Here they are, 6 balls o' fluff:
The Wabbit Woman said they all looked great, that their mama must have fed them that morning, and she will call to let our mom know how they're doing. She said mom did the right thing, as Mama Bunny might not come back now that the weeds are gone, & growing up mere inches from our Jaws of Death would not have worked out well (for the bunnies.) Harumph. They seemed like they would be more fun to play with than boring stuffed squeakies. Guess we'll never know.
Woos and a-roos,
Star & Jack a-woo
PS - The Wabbit Woman just called and told mom all the buns are doing furry furry well, have good appetites, took right to the bottles, and she's furry pleased with how things are going. The little bun that rolled away got some extra TLC & medicine cause he seemed a bit disoriented & started screaming his little head off late last night, but he's better now & will rejoin his sibs in the morning... Like we care.