Lettuce pray....

That's how the baby bunny would type Let us pray.... if he could type at all, which he can't, because he left this world and went to Bunny Heaven around dinner-time tonight.

I really thought he might make it because he seemed so bright-eyed this morning. But maybe the brightness was brought on by fear. I'm sure he was quite content to be in the little bunny nest with his mother and the other baby bunnies.... till Gatsby came along and decided to make him a play-toy.

Gatsby was just being a cat. Years ago, when we had an orange and white Manx named Rusty, he caught (and killed) a tiny baby squirrel in the yard. My dad was with us at the time-- we were both sitting on the deck and Rusty ran across the backyard too quickly for us to stop him-- we saw too late that he was headed for that little squirrel. When I scolded Rusty for killing the squirrel, my dad scolded me... telling me that Rusty was just being what he was-- a cat. My dad said "You can put fancy collars on that cat, you can let him sleep on fancy pillows-- but he's still a cat, and cats are going to chase down anything that moves. If you don't want him to kill anything, then keep him inside."

This morning and afternoon, I was feeding the bunny with an eye-dropper, which seemed to work once the bunny got the hang of it. I'm sure the eye-dropper was a poor substitute for his bunny-mother, and that's what he really needed-- his bunny-mother, complete with long ears and cute little tail.

When I went out this afternoon, I stopped by the thrift shop and bought a plush and very soft and small teddy bear.... and put it in the box with the bunny. He cuddled right up to it, which is exactly what I thought he would do. As soft as that little bear was, it still wasn't what he needed, but I tried. I can't even say that the bunny is in a better place, because I wrapped him up in soft tissues and I put him in a little bag and placed him in the Hefty bag inside the trash can outside. Not exactly a better place. I can't bury him-- either Gatsby or some other outside creature would dig him up..... and that wouldn't be a good thing.

Every time Gatsby walks near his crate on the back porch, he peeks into it..... still looking for that little bunny, I'm sure. When I fed Gatsby for the last time tonight, I told him not to go looking for any more baby bunnies. "The first one didn't make it..... I don't want to do that again." Gatsby just looked at me with those green eyes of his. You didn't like my gift?!

Just in case..... for future baby bunnies.... I saved the soft little teddy bear. I have a feeling that finding baby bunnies now and again is going to be one of Gatsby's favorite night-time activities.