Monday, June 07, 2010

Sometimes Survival of the Fittest Just Really Sucks

The spring after I began working for my current employer, I discovered the south side of the office building was a veritable playground for bunnies.

One gorgeous morning, I went out to partake in a puff, and saw the cutest little guy sunning himself on the walk...

At least, he was cute from the side.

But then, he turned his head to look at me and, much to my horror, I discovered he only had one ear. The other ear, I suspect, was snack food for a fox or the local coyote who lives nearby.

I certainly don't believe he cast it off himself as a token of affection for a prostitute all Van Gogh style.

Subsequently, I gave the one-eared little guy a name...Bongo.

This is the original Bongo from Matt Groening's Life in Hell strip

I saw Bongo several more times that spring and I always made certain to give him extra attention, you know, with him being special needs and all, but, after awhile he disappeared.

Again, I suspect the fox or coyote came back for a second helping.

Today, I found another special needs little guy.

But this one...I couldn't bring myself to name this one.

He was just an itty bitty guy - a few weeks old by the looks of him. He would fit into the palm of my smallish hand. And he was so cute!

I discovered him because he was rustling around in the rocks up against the windows where I normally go to smoke and, at first, I didn't realize what was making the noise because something was clearly unusual about him.

He was completely lame. Both of his hind legs were utterly useless to him and he was dragging himself around by his front paws desperate to A) get away from the scary lady looking at him and to B) get out of the extreme heat of the sun.

When I realized he was lame, I was devastated. Because this poor little guy had been abandoned by his mother - of this I'm sure - and he would be no match for A) the heat, B) the foxes, or C) the coyote. He would not be loved and squeezed and held and fed and called George1. Instead, he likely won't last through the night, prey to whatever stumbles across his trembling little body.

At least I won't have to hear him scream.

1: Goddammit! I just named him *sad face*.

1 comment:

zero hour said...

ummm the old patty would have somehow managed to bring him home....sigh
poor bun bun.