Just yesterday morning, I posted (over at The Marketing Mama) about the six baby bunnies living under the side of our house. I have been obsessed with worry over them, since I have never seen their mother in the nest with them, but as I visited them each day, I could see them growing quickly, and clearly thriving. I felt as proud of them as their own furry mama must have been.
Yesterday afternoon, while waiting for the boys’ camp bus to drop them off, I thought I’d check on Joe, John, Jenna, Rory, Twigs, and Super Carrot Guy. I went around to the side of the house. I peeked behind the bushes.
They weren’t there.
The bunnies are GONE, completely gone, as is their nest. There’s not a bit of straw or fluff left. There is no sign that they were ever there at all.
I am trying not to panic about this. If the raccoon that (I think) is getting into our garbage got to them, I don’t think he’d be so utterly neat about it. Although he did leave a half-eaten bagel on top of a little paper plate on top of our garbage can. Whatever’s foraging in our trash knows how to do a proper place setting.
On the other hand, did the mother bunny really come take her six kids, one at a time, and move them somewhere else? Did they hop away? And who cleaned up the nest? Do bunnies, like Boy Scouts, have “No Trace Awareness,” and leave their campsites cleaner than they found them? Heck, they haven’t even left any rabbit footprints behind.
But then I go the other way. “If a cweature ate dem,” as Seamus delicately put it, “dere would be some bones.”
I’m afraid to know the truth, but seriously, I was up last night wondering. Any baby bunny experts out there?