Tuesday. Week 32, Day 6. It’s cold. I’m tired. There’s nothing much to report on today…
Unless you count THE WILD BABY BUNNY I ran after and caught Sunday! Okay. So, we were all down by the lone tree in our yard, swinging on a rope and climbing and chasing and pretending to "fish" in our ditch, when all the sudden, a baby bunny darted out from under some leaves and ran into the drainpipe under the driveway. Not five minutes later, another bunny made a mad dash for…well, I don’t know where he was trying to go, but we all started running after him–including the dogs, who risked electrocution and broke through their boundary without a problem. Darcy had that rabbit in her mouth for a millisecond before Caleb grabbed her by both the snout and tail and threw her. The bunny picked up running again–but I caught it! And, oh, man…
We cuddled with that thing and held it and petted it and snuggled it for close to half an hour. "Tempted" is not even close to describing how we felt about the possibility of keeping it–but we decided to let it go back to its home. Sniff, tear. Upon close inspection of the area under the tree, we discovered an obscure little hole just bulging with bunnies. By Monday afternoon, they had all relocated elsewhere. It’s probably for the best, because Caleb and I–not the kids, but Caleb and I–might not have had the will power to keep ourselves from further bothering them.
I probably haven’t ran that fast in years–and I paid for it later that evening…and the next day…and today. I swear, this baby feels like he’s about to fall right out.
And so there’s your update on the ultra-cool, Jeff-Corwin-y lifestyle that I lead around here.
Shadow might not like that canned food as much as we thought, or maybe she’ll only eat a particular flavor of a particular brand. Yesterday I let go of my big plans to finally bathe her. Her hips wobbled back and forth whenever she walked. Her back legs shook; she had trouble crouching to go potty…even her front legs seemed to give out every so often. It was painful to watch her move at all–Caleb had to hold her up to eat. Even on a good day, a bath takes a lot out of her–she’s down for the count, practically plastered to the floor for the next 48 hours. I don’t know how I’m going to get her clean and frankly, I’m not all that concerned about it anymore. Ask me later on in the week when the house stinks unbearably like dirty dog. Oh, wait. It smells like that now. But whattayagonna do? We’ve got doggy-glucosamine pills, but I don’t know how much that actually does for her hips. Is there some fairly cheap canine medication out there that would just knock out any pain she’s possibly feeling? I know certain things are inevitable with older dogs; I just want her to be somewhat comfortable for the time being.