When I was in high school I had an Easter photo taken with my younger brother. The photographer made me hold a rabbit for the photo as I was over the age of 10. My brother wanted to hold it, but he was too young. (This was the photographer’s rule.) I wasn’t a 100% on the rabbit, but decided I’d take one for the team. So, I held it. Then, while our photos were being taken, the damn thing bit me. Hard. I ended up dropping/throwing the rabbit. This was following by a yell and some tears. This has led me to a few things. (1) I won’t have a pet rabbit but I love Cheryl. (2) Easter photos can be weird. So, let me introduce you to Sketchy Bunnies and my favorite photos of the Easter Bunny creeping out the sacred holiday of Easter.
The penguin’s just a distraction, Son. Don’t take your eyes off that bunny.
I think that bunny has been hit with a weed wacker once or twice.
He only had enough rufies for one kid.
I think this bunny is trying to seduce children with more than just candy.
This baby isn’t going down without a fight.
Because a paper plate mask sounds like a great idea. The grown person in a rabbit costume doesn’t look like a suspect for killing mutliple teenagers in the woods at all.
Then, we have my favorite Easter photo of all time. It can only be found here. It’s my best friend Jenn.
She looks to be a mixture of confused and looking for her momma, but trying to behave and keep her skirt down.
That sounds about right.
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Posted in Holidays, Outdoors, The Mister, tagged bunnies, bunny, bunny rescue, den, rabbit den, rabbit rescue, rabbits, Waldens Puddle, weed killer on May 6, 2011 |
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The Mister was off on Good Friday, but I was at work. Therefore, I was quite alarmed when I received a call from a breathless Mister saying, “I was in the backyard working. We have some weeds by the house that I noticed while I was mowing. Do you remember the rabbit?” Before I answered anything about rabbit recognition I quickly asked him if he was okay. I received a confused, “Yeah why? Do you remember the rabbit?” I did remember the rabbit. She (we named her Cheryl) had been hanging out at our place for weeks and we admired her a couple times.
The Mister was in a productive mood (my favorite) and decided to rid some of our yard of weeds. There was a pesky lump of them close to the house and he doused it with weed killer. Then, he began to pull the weeds to find this.
Insert frantic call to me at work.
The Mister stumbled upon a rabbit den and was panicked. He inspected the bunny to find that it was alive but breathing “funny” and there were more inside. I googled rabbit rescues and found out that our vet was on the short list of rabbit vets. So, he called them and they referred him to Walden’s Puddle. There he listened to well-organized voice mail stating that if they were the size of a tennis ball they were old enough to live on their own. If they are smaller than a tennis ball he was to cover them back up as the mother would be back between dusk and dawn. Additionally, it was untrue that if he touched them the mother would not come back. He left a message that he had covered them in weed killer. Then, he tried to cover them back up. However, the bunny on top (pictured above) kept hoping away causing The Mister to follow the bunny, scoop him up and place him back in the den. I would have liked to have seen this.
He counted four bunnies inside the den and called me back to tell me of the message he left for Walden’s Puddle. Then, he called me to tell me they asked him to bring the bunnies to them. So, he was going to bundle them up and take them to Joelton (approximately 30 minutes away) because they were worried about the weed killer. I was vocal about getting the bunnies back and sending me pictures. I received the photos below and an accurate count of seven bunnies.
Seven sweet little bunnies in a box
I got the photos but we did not get the bunnies back. They were going to clean them and release them on their property in a week or so. I felt awful for poor Cheryl and was openly upset that I didn’t get to see/touch/love them. I quickly accused him of telling them about the hawk, he says he did not, and called Walden’s Creek “bunnynappers.” Then, I came to my senses. They were professionals and had the best care for the bunnies. If we wanted them to live, which we did and do, then the bunnies did not need to come home with us. However, I was still sad for myself and Cheryl. What would she think when she got to the den and they were all gone? Would she leave too?
Happily, Cheryl is still around. We see her just about everyday. The day after “the bunny rescue” we saw Cheryl beside the den and The Mister shouted to her, “Hey Cheryl, they’re okay. I saved your babies.” She kinda looked in our direction but I couldn’t make eye contact.
Take care of yourself and your bunnies.
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