A few months ago, after a long hard winter, I decided that our “Pet bunnies” had been prisoner long enough. They had almost burrowed themselves out of the nice room shed they had been able to dwell in all winter. It has a dirt floor and its previous tenants (turkeys) were very pleased with their housing. These bunnies dug DEEP holes in the ground till one dug enough that it reached the other side of the wall and was free.
The Buck…is a deep brown and he is huge. I turned him loose before winter as they were multiplying like rabbits. haha. He has been free all this time, he is not afraid of us humans and he eats the scratch grain and feeds right alongside the chickens and cows. His life seems content.
With one escapee, I figure I would set the other three grown bunnies free and allow them all to really live. I cannot tell you how much I love looking out the windows or walking around the farmyard and seeing large fat bunnies frolicking in the yard. They are not afraid of us or my Australian Shepherd, Brutus. Our faithful canine watches them keenly but never offers to go towards them.
Just a short 30-40 days later I looked out the window and there were lots of baby bunnies playing in the yard. I have counted about 19. The moms are all white with black or brown or tan spots and the buck is solid chocolate so you can imagine what a sweet mix of multi-colored baby bunnies are running around our farm.
Our older grandchildren who live an hour away from us came up for a visit one Saturday. Leah wanted a bunny. I told her they were kind of wild and she would not be able to catch one. Her Dad, our Son furthered added to her quest by saying “Leah, if you can catch one you can take it home”.
OH MY GOODNESS. That little girl wanted a bunny so bad. She chased them under the farmer’s porch that stretched from one side of our workshop to the other. She would crawl under as far as she could fit, and once I looked outside and saw she had found a ten-foot piece of plastic waterline and was trying to “coax” the bunnies from under the long porch. When that didn’t work, she found a small dog kennel in the barn and set it up at the end of the farmer’s porch, and had retrieved carrots from our house to bait her trap with.
ALL DAY LONG she was in pursuit of those bunnies. She would run and chase them, she would lay on the ground and call them, at one point she begged her parents for permission to crawl completely under the porch! Access was denied by her parents with good reason.
Around 4 o’clock p.m. I ran to town and grab a few things I needed to make dinner. As I was walked out the door I heard Leah begging her Daddy to help her catch a bunny.
Our Son, Thom gave in and decided to try and help her catch a baby bunny. Soon, he had enlisted the help of Mommy, along with her Uncle Josh and Uncle Jason.
I couldn’t believe my eyes when I returned home and found all the adults chasing bunnies. Within an hour, they had caught not one but two baby bunnies. The persistence of young Leah was impressive to me. She has grit for a girl her age.
The comical part of this whole scenario was watching her daddy (our son) build a make-shift bunny cage to get them home it. He had to use rodent wire as they could escape through normal chicken wire. His cage looked like a large mailbox. Roundtop, flat bottom. It was comical
Days later, these are the photos the granddaughter’s mom sent to me. Leah and Savannah are spoiling these little bunnies. They hold them, cuddle them, feed them, and they are working hard trying to convince Mom and Dad to approve a litter box in the house and allow the bunnies to live like a cat in their home. I am not sure they are going to win that debate but I know those bunnies are very special to those little girls. What a privilege it was for me to witness this moment when our little Leah showed her strong desire to have a baby bunny of her own and how hard she was willing to work to get it.

This is Leah and her Bunny

This is Savannah and her Bunny

UPDATE: unfortunately, both of these little bunnies died about a week later and our granddaughters were utterly crushed. Nothing would do but Omie (me) had to put out an all-points bulletin on Facebook, and yard sale sights seeking baby bunnies.
Within hours I had found some healthy Californian Baby Bunnies that are used to being held and interacting with humans. I had to care for them a week before we could get the baby bunnies delivered to the grandchildren. Last we heard, the bunnies were thriving and happy. The children’s Dad, maybe not so much. He said watching the girls cry when the bunnies died was hard to watch and he doesn’t want to endure any more “bunny funerals”. He’s becoming an old softy…