Saving the Bunnies

John Deere riding lawn mowers in fields of high grass can sometimes be cruel to small creatures that live within. My brother, Jimmy, twelve years old at the time, noticed a puff of fur fly out from the side of the green beast as he ran screaming and flailing his arms at my father. With tears running down his cheeks, Jimmy searched the surrounding area for other rabbits that he could secure away from the rotating blades. He came upon the brood of new born bunnies that must have been the offspring of the clump of fur now nestled in the shreds of grass. My father tried to explain to Jimmy the futility of trying to save four newborn rabbits, but Jimmy would not listen as he removed his shirt and placed the four, still furless, wet bunnies inside. At twelve years old, Jimmy had already saved the life of a robin from the mouth of a stray cat; raised frogs from tadpole eggs found in the small pond of water formed in tire tracks down the old dirt road; helped our pet dog deliver a litter of eight puppies; rescued a butterfly cocoon from a fallen branch; and nursed back to health a box turtle ran over by a car on the road in front of our house. With a shoebox full of grass, a light bulb for warmth, and an eyedropper of milk, Jimmy stayed with those bunnies day and night. As days slipped by, eyes opened; a bigger eye dropper was needed; lettuce was introduced to the shoe box; and furless bodies became covered in a soft brown fur coat. Jimmy was never one to become too attached to his patients; he did not do what he did to try to add to his menagerie of pets. When he was confident that the bunnies were ready to live on their own he began his long hike into the fields, far removed from John Deere tractors, farmers, cats and dogs; and, released the four, healthy bunnies into the world. Twenty years later, no one was able to do for Jimmy what he continuously did for the creatures that he so loved and adored. We lost a good man that day. May he rest in peace.