April 25, 2016
The farm where I ride horses is overrun with rabbits. Which is cool, because it also means there are lots of raptors around, including a breeding pair of bald eagles.
Last week, I went to ride in the indoor arena because the ground outside was still wet, got on the horse I was riding that day (I ride either TinyHorse or the Boy, that day it was the Boy, who is a big baby thoroughbred and a sweetie pie), started around the arena…
And there was a baby bunny sitting right on the path. I couldn’t tell if it was alive or dead. Its eyes were open, it was fluffy, it looked alive. But it didn’t move, not even when the Boy and I walked within a foot or so of it. The bunny was in baby freeze mode and it wasn’t moving.
I couldn’t stand it. I’d be worried about stepping on it the whole time, and if the Boy did step on it I would be so horrified and traumatized it would likely ruin my whole day. My whole year. So I got off, found a pitchfork, and went to try to get it out of the way. I mean, if it was dead someone would have to scoop it anyway. If it was alive, it would leave, right? Right?!!
No. I scooped it up with the fork. Still didn’t move. I thought I saw it breathing but I wouldn’t put money on it. I took it to the door, intending to set it down and maybe it could recover or whatever. It still didn’t move. I carefully set the fork down and tried to scrape the baby bunny off it. Determined that it was alive because it started wriggling. Finally got it off the fork.
And it immediately ran back inside the arena.
So, you know. At least it wasn’t dead.
(How the story ends: I never did get it out of the arena, but it finally went and hid under some jump poles, which at least meant we weren’t going to step on it. I had a lovely ride after that.)