I Killed a Baby Bunny Today...

I have a huge backyard and it takes a while for me to mow. It has been the location of many great memories with two little girls growing up; backyard birthday parties, slip-n-slide get-togethers, chasing and playing with dogs. Since our last German Shepherd died in 2009, it has become the perfect habitat for all manner of creatures that walk, jump, run, and even crawl.

Our rabbit population has also increased with babies running to and fro all day long. I look out for them, even throwing out lettuce and a carrot or two. When I saw what I had done today, I thought back to a time when I was 8 or 9. We had a bad Blue Jay population that stole our pecans. Dad told me he would pay me a quarter for each Blue Jay I killed and brought to him. I do not know if Dad actually thought a young boy with a BB gun was going to impact the Blue Jay population by any measurable amount, but it gave me something to do. A few days later, after a lot of misses, I killed my first bird. Not long after, I got my second. By then I noticed a bird kept returning to the same tree. I decided to climb the tree to see if there was a nest. It was a tall pecan tree on the back two acres—too far away for anyone to hear me if I called for help. I remember getting some rope from the barn and attaching one end to my BB gun and the other end to my waist. After climbing the tree, I found a nest with three or four baby birds. Until I saw them, I had not thought of what I would do if I actually found any birds. The momma bird kept flying towards me attempting to scare me off. God made the females of the species very protective and endowed them with a special trait to nurture and care for their young. She was no different. After a few moments of mental debate, I either let them live or thought I should do as my dad asked because these would grow up and “steal” our pecans. I finally decided to drop them. Later that evening, I took my Piggly Wiggly "game bag" to the house to show Dad my kills and get my money. He seemed impressed when I went into the bag for the third time to remove another bird. When he saw what I had it was easy to see the disappointment on his face. He asked how I got them. I recounted the events. He could have been angry, or worse he could have been proud. I am glad he was neither. He told me you have to give animals a fighting chance. Taking a life is a solemn event. He counted out the quarters, one for each bird, then told me to bury the birds. I found a nice place under the tree they lived in. I took the quarters from my pocket and threw them in the little grave before covering them with dirt. The dirt that covered the dead bodies was symbolic of me hiding the feelings of my actions.

Please do not misunderstand; I am not a card-carrying PETA fanatic. I grew up hunting and fishing and we ate what we caught and killed. We had cows, goats, and all breeds of dogs we cared for and provided for. We did what generations of mankind have done going back to the Garden of Eden. God made “male and female” telling them to “be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground”. We are charged by our Creator to protect and manage all living things on this earth. Just do a word study (etymological) of the words “man”, “husbandry”, and “management”—they all come from the same root word. For a long time, agricultural colleges offered degrees in “animal husbandry”. It is now called “animal science”. We are to protect life and manage all Earth’s resources.

Aborted fetuses being shipped to an incinerator.

Preserved aborted fetuses for research.

After a few moments of remembering the Blue Jay event, I thought about the people who invest time and money in protecting animals. There are many people who spend their entire lives protecting and defending endangered animals like the Mexican Walking Fish or Chinese Giant Salamander. Then there are some that want to protect all animals all the time from all bi-pedal predators—man. They would give their lives to protect an animal. I guess this is admirable in a way, but then many of these same defenders have no problem with the murder of innocent babies. Oh, they have nice names for it: “manual vacuum aspiration” and “Intact D&X” (Dilation and Extraction), but they all have a singular purpose: kill the unborn child growing in a woman’s body. These aborted babies are then backed in red biological bags or placed in glass containers filled with preservatives. The red bags are then incinerated. Sometimes they are just thrown in the trash. No funerals. No memorials. People should care for animals, but having greater concern for animals than unborn humans is wrong.

All these thoughts flooded my consciousness while I stood watching. You see, I walk the backyard, make a lot of noise, and have an idea of most of the rabbit hole locations. It is kind of like a Seinfeld episode—“The Merv Griffin Show”—where George first hits a pigeon while driving, then steps on another. Finally, he swerves the car to miss a pigeon only to hit a squirrel. He continues to argue that man and pigeons “had a deal”. They do their thing (pooping on everyone and statue defecation) and in return, they move out of the way for humans. The big John Deere makes a lot of noise and I drive slow enough to give ample warning in the event there are even slower rabbits. However, today, they were not in a hole in the open yard. Instead, they were under a tree that had snapped years ago from a tornado. The limbs began to grow towards the bottom and became a huge 12-foot tall tree-bush. I was using my push mower to get under the limbs when I saw an adolescent rabbit running away. Movement caught my attention and noticed several very small bunnies crawling/walking way. They were maybe 4-inches. It was then I noticed one that was just kind of writhing in place. There was no blood and I was hoping that the blades had missed him (the actual hole was under the tire track and not the blades). I walk away in an attempt to allow the momma to return and care for her young. I decided to not finish mowing under the bush. A few moments later after mowing around another tree, I finished and knocked on the back door to get my wife’s attention. She came out on the deck and I told her what had happened. She was sad. I recounted the Blue Jay story and how I felt about that event. Moments later, after cleaning both mowers and stowing them in “Ed’s Shed”, I walk back to the tree-bush. There he was. He was not moving. Thankfully, all the others were gone. I walk to the garage to get a shovel. Since the first grave for birds, I have dug many graves for animals. It is never an easy task. I decided to bury him between my two German Shepherds, Jacoba and Nikko. Perhaps this way, he will always have someone to play with. The dogs loved to lie under the tree-bush and ironically, the bunny is only 20 feet from where he was born.

Bunny Burial.

I finished filling, covering, and tamping down the moist soil. I killed a baby bunny today; it reminded me of all the aborted babies and it made me sad. At least this baby had a funeral.

(Note: During the 40 minutes it took to write this, 80 babies were aborted.)