I once saved a baby rabbit. My dog found it, picked it up in its mouth and brought it over to where I was sitting, where she put it at my feet. Because she was in a dogs mouth, she had some bite marks that were bleeding pretty bad. We went over to where the dog was and found another baby rabbit who was unharmed, and one that was [deceased]. We stopped the bleeding, and put them out in the yard in case the mother came back. In the morning they were gone. A coyote might’ve gotten them, but wr left the [unalive] one as well and it was still there. About three years later, I found a [not living] adult rabbit in around the same spot. I buried her, and sometimes I wonder if they were the same one. There’s a lot of bunnies around, so probably not, but I like to think that the very beginning and end of her life were marked by me.

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