Not All Adoptive Parents Have Two Legs

Before we could be stationed in Germany, some of the requirements we had to meet were that of pets; all their shots, licenses from the town or post you’d left from, recent (within the past 60 days, I believe), physicals, etc. We chose to have Scotch neutered, Angel spayed, and both Avid tattooed, in hopes of lessening the period they would be held upon our arrival. Sadly, Scotch did not survive long enough to make his appointment. However, Angel, our then-eight-month-old chocolate lab, passed her physical, was spayed, received shots, and, now sports her own tattooed ear. Though it seemed like a good idea at the time*, Jeff & I wonder sometimes, if we should have had Angel “fixed.”
Our house-and property-always gets picked out, almost automatically, as the safe haven, not only for our children and their friends, yet also animals; be they strays or otherwise. Angel is our resident animal “mother”. Since she, herself was dropped off to us, there’s been an enormous amount of foster animals, to include: a water spaniel, 17 cats, 7 lizards, too, too many frogs, (in turn, 200 tadpoles), etc. Our latest was a rabbit. She loved and ‘mothered’ most of them, but the rabbit, was I think, Angel’s favorite, to date. This is their (sadly), short tale. I hope y’all enjoy it, as I know they did.


About a month ago, my eleven-year-old daughter hollered to all in the house-and neighboring towns, it seemed-who could hear her, to “come see!” This included, as she felt it should, Angel.

Stopping just short of piling on top of each other, we all came out to the back porch. Three scared, severely dehydrated, beautiful rabbits sat hiding inside the children’s summer tent. Angel perked right up when she realized why she had been roused from her nap under the ceiling fan and brought into the heat. I could see it was taking all of her control to sit on the porch and wait with us instead of simply taking chase.

We have never required the use of a leash on Angel; she has always been content to “roam” in her own yard. Since she did have to wear her tags, she does wear a collar. It was this, I held onto and walked her down into the backyard. A simple “stay,” and she sat waiting for me to go see them. I took two more, slow, small steps amid, “Awwww, can we keep ‘em, Momma?” and, “Don’t scare ‘em away!”. Which was, apparently, all it took to wake the trio from their paralysis and run. The children shot, “thanks a lot!” looks from the porch, and Angel ran after their departing bunny butts! (This did very little to cheer the children, who then felt it was only fair for them to be allowed to chase the dog!). I set a bowl of water and some carrots from the garden, out for our new friends, and went back to my writing. I was on a deadline. I figured they’d found the tent once, they may again.

The typical boisterous dinner conversation was very subdued the children determined not to talk to me, I’d scared the rabbits. Sitting with Jeff on the back porch, after dinner, he let me know he’d heard about the day’s visitors, and how I purposely chased away Brianna’s pets-to-be. I laughed and told him to “Bite me.”
As we sat and watched, one lone, all white bunny came back to the tent. Jeff & I froze, not sure if we should wait and see if it planned to stay for awhile, or whether to quietly call to the kids to see it before it ran. We decided on the “wait and see” option. Angel, lying at our feet, had her own ideas; she bounded down the stairs, and into the yard. She got within a few feet, and stopped running, instead opting to approach cautiously. I wanted to call her right back, afraid she’d spook the already jittery creature.

I worried needlessly. Angel came nose to nose with the rabbit, the two “checking each other out”. The dog promptly flopped onto the grass. She lay on all four paws, tail wagging, and watched almost patiently, as the rabbit continued grazing, the dog in its sight at all times.

I’ve been told domesticated rabbits are only slightly less skittish than their wild counterparts, since they have had a chance to be around cats & dogs at one point or another in their lifetimes. I don’t know if that is true, however, it was evident that this rabbit, though unsure of Angel, it did not fear her. As if to prove this, the rabbit settled down beside Angel, and went about cleaning itself.

A couple weeks later, Jeff proudly displayed the bunny allowing him to hold and pet it. The following day, during a heavy rainstorm, Brianna noticed “Bunny Boy,” as they’d taken to calling him, trying to hide and stay dry. We brought him in, out of the rain, and set him a little box, full of “fluffed” sheets to lie in, right beside the dog. That night he spent at the door, waiting to go out again.

Against all of our better judgment, I let him out the next morning. We fashioned a “house” for him outside, and kept the food stocked and the water supply fresh, making it possible for him to come and go as he pleased.
On this past Monday, we found him in the driveway, trying to get to his home. I went out to say ‘hello’, and he was on his side, unable to move his hind end, or sit up without falling back onto his side. Immediately, I brought him in, to Jeff.

There is a dog next door. It is unattended for most of the day. She feeds and houses it, she just resents having to. That, in large part, has made him a vicious, miserable animal. The rest is in the breed. All of the neighbors have asked the owner to not let him roam freely, yet she chooses to ignore us and does so, anyhow. After looking over the rabbit, it is evident the dog attacked him. It got him just enough for one “good” bite before the rabbit could flee.

The result? Two infected puncture holes in the rabbit’s hind end. We cleaned the wounds and set about trying to fight the infection. His condition was looking promising. Until this morning; around five a.m., I awoke to Angel’s whimpering at his box. “Bunny Boy appeared to have died quietly, in his sleep. I wanted to call the vet and ask what the (input your own expletive here) was in the medication he gave it yesterday. Jeff says it was Mother Nature’s choice, not the vets, as to whether the rabbit would have recovered.

We’re sitting here now, Angel & I, out on the back porch. Off in the yard, a black rabbit, and a brown rabbit are grazing, watching the dog anxiously watching them.