Arrow Bunny

A dramatic true story with a rather strange twist.

Original story by S.Veigel 09/22/2022

It is early morning, long before dawn. My yellow patio light is on and I’m standing out back, leaning on my grill, facing the back of the house. On the grill tray is a cup of coffee. In my hand a pipe. My beagle is in the house sleeping on the couch.

I’ve tried to change my sleep habits but, after years of taking care of dogs with health and anxiety issues, I’m afraid I’m on permanent “doggy time”. To bed by 6 in the evening and awake by 1 or 2 in the morning, having coffee. But that’s not really a bad thing. I see both the day and the night. And what better time to just observe and ponder things?

Suddenly I don’t feel alone. I glance to my left and there is a black rat just under the edge of the patio table. It is frozen with fear after coming upon me. “Good morning”, I said. “There are 3 rules”, I continued. “Stay out of the house, don’t eat the flowers and share the yard.” The terrified rat backed up slowly and then ever so cautiously stepped away.

When the last dog passed away I started feeding, studying and writing about the squirrels. That’s another story of course, but the point is I opened the door to a wonderful experience. I began to see more creatures, day and night, and started building a relationship with the regulars. When I was concerned about a new creature in the yard I countered my concern by reading about it. Then, upon seeing the creature, I broke the ice by saying, “Well, good morning.” And so, before you knew it, there wasn’t much that bothered me.

Everyone knows that dogs don’t understand your complex dissertations. But every dog figures out the pattern of sounds you make when you say, “cookie”. There’s no magic or sainthood involved here. With the dogs or the wildlife. It’s just about caring, using a gentle voice, turning your back coming outside as you quietly close the door, word repetition, letting them feel safe, not staring at them like a predator and giving each their personal space. And, yes, a dependable source of food and water.

Eventually the regular squirrels might poke their head under the fence and pause, looking at me. Once I said, “Its ok. Come on,” they’d enter and eat off the round stones I call “dinner plates”. The same often happened when a sound startled them and they jumped up on the side of a tree in the yard. They’d look around and then look straight at me, intently. I’d say, “Its ok,” and they’d climb back down and eat.

And then it happened. A friend was in desperate need of rehoming her beagle, named Emmy. I wondered how that was all going to work out. But Emmy was not a dog who chased small animals. All she wanted was love, food and endless belly rubs. Having been raised with cats, Emmy would go out to do her business and not even look at a small animal. The doves and squirrels watched, Emmy would go back inside and the wildlife would go back to eating.

You can’t make this up. At this point I felt like nothing could be more perfect. And Emmy was just the icing on the cake.

I: Spring has sprung

There is really nothing about the presence of wildlife that inspires or impresses me. They’ve always been here. I’ve known about them all my life. No. That alone doesn’t fill me with wonder. It’s the interpersonal relationship I began to discover. Animals coming up onto the patio to take my measure. To figure me out. Relating to me as one of the other non-threatening creatures of the world. And then going about their business. Laying stretched out on the concrete bench in the back yard, looking at and listening to me on the patio as I rambled on about random thoughts.

One day I noticed some digging in the yard. A hole covered by fur. A hole just big enough to hide some baby rabbits. I carefully mowed the grass around it for a couple weeks until I could be sure the babies weren’t still in there.

One night, looking out the kitchen window, my wife saw the mother rabbit enter the yard. The mother rabbit looked around the yard first and then laid across the hole to nurse her babies. When she was finished, she disappeared into the night.

Mother rabbits stay away from the nest so as not to attract predators. They nurse their young about 10 minutes once a night. And then go off again. Many times you will see baby rabbits in the yard, but you will not often see the mother near-by. She may watch over them at a distance, but once they leave the nest she lets them explore and learn on their own. Or at least, as far as you might see this relationship.

II: The wonder of it all.

In late spring the river birch trees rain seeds. I blow them off the patio enough to leave a border of river birch seeds around the edge of the stone patio. Not on purpose, but for a while, the seeds just keep coming.

One day I was walking along the side of my house towards the back gate. There was one of the baby bunnies born in my yard nibbling something in the grass. It was an eastern cottontail rabbit. As I approached, it never looked up. “Good morning,” I said, and then opened the gate and walked into the back yard.

A couple early mornings later I again went out to have my coffee and a pipe. Suddenly I was aware of something on my right. I looked over and there was that baby bunny, not 4 feet from me licking up river birch seeds. It was wonderful. But I was sure it would hop off soon. I looked again. Surely soon it would hop off. But it did not. I went in and out for about 2 hours to get more coffee and every time I came back out there was that bunny delightfully licking up river birch seeds. Perfectly fine with my company.

Night after night, until the river birch stopped seeding, there was that bunny and me having a wonderful visit together. As it grew up to eat off the dinner plates, my whole world started to center around that eastern cottontail coming in every morning. Laying in the yard like one of my dogs. Hopping onto the patio and stopping for a moment as if to say hello. A relationship that continued until long after that baby bunny was full grown.

III: Nothing lasts forever.

I don’t name the animals that come into my yard. For one thing it is almost impossible to keep track of who is who. For another thing, stuff happens and I cannot protect them in the wild. So I don’t want to know if I lost a personal friend. I tend to count the number of squirrels and doves, but I don’t name them. My bunny friend, however, was there so much I was very tempted to give it one.

Then something changed the wonderful mood I was in. It was Thursday, June 16, 2022. I know because I’d later put this date on the calendar to track the rabbit’s progress. It was a beautiful morning. As usual, I smiled seeing the bunny coming into the yard. Then I almost chuckled. It looked like the bunny had gone through a vine of some sort. It looked like maybe there was a small red flower with the stem draped across its back. “What did you get into?” I queried, stepping out to get a closer look. And then my mood turned to horror.

In a few seconds my feelings were ebbing and flowing over and over from shock to anger, anxiety, a sudden need to act, not knowing how to help and then back to being furious. The red flower on the bunny’s back was not a flower at all. It was the plastic end of some sort of an arrow. On the other side I could see a well formed small razor sharp “arrow head”. Later I would research it and find out it was a dart from a blow gun. Yah. A frickin’ blow gun!

“Who in my city neighborhood was out at night with a blowgun?!” I fumed. Was your vegetable garden that … important?! Ever hear of deer and rabbit repellant? Did the vicious little bunny sit there and wait for you to go back into the house to fetch your blowgun?!” Then I told my wife, “If you ever hear someone in the neighborhood has a blowgun, do not ever tell me.”

I don’t think there was ever a time when I felt such heart bursting anxiety. I knew things happened like that but now it was in my face. My friend had been shot, was still alive and needed my help. Neither of us asked for it but now it was on me to do something. And I had no idea how to do that.

IV: To the rescue (Day 1).

Slugging down some beers to try and get my feelings out of the way of my thoughts, I realized that nothing could happen to save my bunny friend with the dart in it until I got some information. If I could catch the rabbit I’d first need a carrier of some sort and then I’d have to know where to take it for medical attention. I had time. The dart did not hit any vital organs. As I watched I realized it went through the skin on the neck, above the spine. It was not life threatening, but I still couldn’t just leave it that way.

To make matters worse, after obtaining a cat carrier from my daughter, I spent the day making phone calls only to learn that most veterinarians in the area didn’t have someone with the experience to handle a wild rabbit. I called and left messages with a “live capture” pest control company but received no response. I also called wildlife rescues who were willing to help, could provide a “live trap”, but told me they didn’t have a veterinarian to handle the immediate medical need.

Finally I spoke to someone at a local SPCA who did work with an emergency veterinarian office that could help. The best part was, if I could catch the rabbit, I could bring it in any time day or night and, being a wild rabbit, they would not charge me a fee. They would even release it back into the wild after it healed.

V: To the rescue (Day 2 and 3).

The average youthful athletic human can run 8 miles an hour (I was 70 years old). A rabbit can run 18 miles an hour and, using its powerful back feet, can literally change direction on a dime. The eyes of a rabbit are large and slightly bulging, giving it the ability to see 360 degrees with just a small blind spot at the end of its nose. It can jump 4 feet and it is always noting its exit points when entering an area.

After a sleepless night I started hauling lumber out of the garage. As I worked, I knew I was now going to terrorize my friend by chasing and trying to capture it. In doing so I was certain that was going to be the end of our relationship, but I had to be the successful bad guy today.

Using 2×4’s I wedged the lumber into every low spot under the fence. I left the known entry points under the fence open but leaned some wood next to them so I could close them up as soon as the rabbit entered. In the meantime my wife had gone to the wildlife rescue and picked up a live trap, despite my insistence that I did not want to use the live trap. It was basically a wire cage. And once the rabbit panicked it would get that dart caught in the wire and cause some real damage.

It was now go time. I asked my next door neighbor and my wife to help. I wanted to try and corner the rabbit where I could grab it. I had a mental picture of me diving for it and grabbing it around the waist to avoid both the dart in its neck and the rabbit’s strong back feet.

After an exhausting attempt we gave up. The rabbit was just too smart and too fast. I thanked my neighbor and sat down to rethink my strategy, confident that I still had the rabbit trapped in the yard.

After a while I went around the yard looking for the rabbit. I wanted to check on it. But it was not to be found. All I did find was a shallow dig spot under the fence where it escaped.

This was not good. At this point it was possible the rabbit wouldn’t come back. But holding out hope I went to the store and bought the largest telescoping fishing net I could find. Then I pulled out more lumber. Using large fiber board sections I created a choke point in a narrow section of yard leading to the gate. The old, “herd it into the canyon and trap it” concept. Once there I intended to net it, wrestle it into the carrier and drive off to the vet.

The trap was now set. The rabbit came back and looked around the yard. Knowing it was a trap it started looking for an out but I was feeling clever. At one point it started digging for its life. The sight of its frantic digging tugged on my heart strings. But I drove two long nylon stakes into the ground and told it I was sorry.

With the words, “Do no harm” popping up in my head over and over I tried to calm the rabbit by sitting and talking with it. But today was the day. If I failed the third day of this I would never be able to live with it. I would have terrorized my rabbit friend for nothing. But no matter what, I was going to get my friend to the doctor.

Soon after I felt all the preparations were in place, another neighbor was recruited to help me and my wife. We successfully herded the rabbit into the confined area of the yard and I made my move. But as I reached out with the net, the rabbit leaped and hit the fiber board with its feet. The boards shifted at the base, the rabbit slid down the board and once again disappeared under the fence.

That was it. After three days of unbearable anxiety and determined effort I failed. Certain I would never see that rabbit again I started collecting wood and restoring the yard. I looked at the live trap. It was now my only hope. I begrudgingly wove shrubbery branches into the wire to camouflage it and then I set the trap into an opening between two bushes. I made sure the opening of the trap faced out where I could see it from the house. I’d have to be quick. That dart sticking out was going to get get caught in the cage wire and I knew it.

I stepped in to get some coffee and when I came out the trap had been sprung. I literally said to myself, “Heart be still. Is it possible?” Something was panicking inside the trap. I pulled the trap out of the bushes only to find a squirrel inside.

That squirrel was so panicked it was jumping and beating itself against the sides and the top of the trap. I quickly released it. And then started stripping the camouflage and cleaning the trap.

There was just no way I could do that to my friend with that dart in it.

VI: Forgiveness.

According to world mythology, a bunny was often characterized as a trickster. But more often than not, the chance presence of a live rabbit was thought to be good luck. Good fortune. New beginning. The presence of a rabbit in the yard, who was comfortable with my presence and related to me, lifted my spirits every morning.

However, the days that followed my failed attempts to save my friend were solemn. No matter what animals came into the yard, it was not ever going to be the same. I had to accept, no matter how difficult it was, that there were just some things, no matter my intentions, that I just could not do.

Later on I’d come to understand that my rabbit friend was a female. When talking to my wife I’d refer to the rabbit as the one with the “arrow” in it. Then I’d refer to it as “arrow bunny”. But I didn’t want that to be the memory. I felt that Arrow Bunny deserved a name. I just couldn’t think of one that felt appropriate. Before long though the title, “Arrow Bunny” would subsequently became “AB”. Then finally the name Abby, meaning “Joy of the father”. And, “That is good name”, I thought.

Again one morning before dawn, still humbled by my experience, I went out to have my pipe and a cup of coffee. Suddenly I felt as though there was something behind me. I slowly looked over my shoulder and there was Abby. Not three feet from where I was standing on the patio.

Surely she would hop off soon. But she didn’t. She was just there taking my measure. Perhaps wondering if I were going to chase her. “No more chasing,” I said quietly. “You come and eat and be safe. No more chasing.”

I don’t know how long we were there together. Whether it was a full minute or two minutes didn’t matter. There was just quiet. And understanding somehow. More than could be spoken. There was a sense of reconnection and a shared feeling.

For about four weeks after Abby returned she once again started coming into the yard every morning to drink some water and nibble off the dinner plates. She’d follow me around like a pet watching me put food down, hung out in the morning and rested under a corner bush where I could see her. We really were friends. And as I watched her, I realized that she wore that dart like body piercing jewelry. Coming in under the fence, running when she wanted, eating, drinking and grooming herself like it really didn’t matter. Almost mocking the attempt to kill her.

One morning I saw the silhouette of two rabbits passing through the yard on their way out under the back fence. Another day I looked out the kitchen window and saw Abby on the patio. Her fur looked unusually rough. It was a sign that she had scratched some of her fur off, perhaps to hide some babies.

A few days later, I looked out the window and saw a baby bunny hopping along the south fence. “I know where Arrow Bunny is,” I told my wife.

VII: The Circle of Life.

I was again sitting at the patio table having coffee contemplating what it was I actually learned when Abby stopped to take my measure. It was ok. I’ll never have that experience again. But it was worth it.

And yet, life was not finished with me. On July 27, 2022 I looked up from my coffee and saw a mother rabbit grabbing mouthfuls of long sunburned dead grass just off the patio. I watched with wonder as she returned again and again only to run off around the corner of the nandinas just out of sight. Curious, I walked quietly across the patio to peek over the shrubs. And there I witnessed her, having dug a sizeable hole, making a bed in the dirt just behind the day lilies. Patting it down and then covering the hole.

She was doing it where I could see her. Not in the dark of night. Not in total secret. The rabbit, I’ll simply call Mrs. Rabbit, finished covering the hole and then hopped over directly in front of me and sat down. She looked at me for a seemingly long period of time. Perhaps taking my measure. I told her about what I was doing and that I would not bother her nest. She didn’t understand a word of course. It was the sound of my voice and our eyes, our presence, engaging each other. Another wonderful, not typical, unexpected relationship. I seemed to understand it was Abby’s sister. So, perhaps, she was also familiar with me and the yard.

From that day forward Mrs. Rabbit came in every morning to eat and lay in the yard. Soon there was a baby bunny. Mrs. Rabbit kept her distance. Sometimes hopping off around the corner where she could keep a watchful eye without the baby seeing her. Eventually I was able to witness mother and baby eating off the round stones together.

I watched this until the baby disappeared. And then Mrs. Bunny disappeared. And I was once again left with my squirrels, my beagle, the birds and my thoughts.

A few weeks later I went out and saw the shadow of bunny ears on the fence. This time it was a half grown bunny. Perhaps the baby? It watched me at a distance putting food down, then ate. It never warmed up to me like Abby or even Mrs. Rabbit. But every time I saw it, that new rabbit, as did the others, healed my heart just a little more. Until I felt, “Maybe I am a nice guy”.

According to world mythology, a bunny was often characterized as a trickster. But more often than not, the chance presence of a live rabbit was thought to be good luck. Good fortune. New beginning. If you can get out of your own way and just let it be so.

Life is hard.

It’s not your job to make it harder.