I was moving quickly as usual. I have no need for a fitbit in the summertime as my son often dictates the number of steps I take — where he goes, I go, even if it’s just from room to room so I can keep an eye on him and what he’s doing. I will take a guess and say that I was probably on my 14,000th step Saturday afternoon when I caught something out of the corner of my eye as I passed the breakfast room window.
What was that?
I went back.
A rabbit. A medium-sized, brown bunny was stretched out in the driveway that separates this house from the one next door. I thought it was a bit odd — was it hurt? I couldn’t see that it was, but could only get a good view of its left side. No distress was apparent. It seemed to be the regular amount of bunny alert as its nose twitched and its ears slanted this way or that toward whatever sound they detected, which made me worry worse — a few times it seemed to want to rise from its reclined position and dart off toward a safer spot, one where it wouldn’t be seen right out in the sunlight but it didn’t — so I stood there in silence, watching, since John Henry was in his bedroom with his iPad and therefore still for the time being. I got closer to the window. I bent down and nearly rested my chin on the windowsill to try to figure out why the bunny was there. I knew if I went outside it would run away unless it was hurt. I wondered if I should google the local wildlife rescue authorities so I’d be ready to call if I got a glimpse of an injury as I made note of its breathing, which seemed normal and neither too fast nor too slow. The bunny just appeared to be… resting.
My sister and I are always on the lookout for signs from other places and often speak of getting messages from the animals. She has even had encounters such as coming upon a huge deer in a decidedly urban park in the middle of Cleveland, Ohio. Not too long ago, H. and I were enjoying a weekend with some friends at their vacation home and we were winding down our day on the front porch. We passed a guitar around and we picked and sang under the early summer starry sky. When it came time for me to play one, I set into “I’m the One to Blame,” — a song that was created by my sister and our father, but after his death — the lyric was found in a briefcase not too long after his suicide and she set it to music. I thought I chose it to play because I didn’t need a capo for it and no one had one handy but when I finished singing, something made me look up and across the road. I had my own encounter with a huge deer. I don’t know how long it had stood there listening to me, but I will always believe/know that’s what it was doing.
Deer. Rabbits. Symbolism.
I read about the deer — grace, gentleness, peacefulness, good luck, majesty, unconditional love.
I read about the rabbit — good luck, prosperity, rebirth, awareness.
I watched the rabbit for a few more minutes. Then, as is typical, I left the window to go check on John Henry, only to return to see the rabbit then sitting up, unharmed, ears and nose twitching. I felt calm. “I just want to tell you I love you,” floated into my mind. Then it hopped away.
We see as we are.
Sending love everywhere today,
AM
The night my Daddy died, 19 years ago last week, I was sitting on my parent's front porch with my Mom, in the rocking chair. A street light sits between the sidewalk and the street, and an owl flew down, sat on the line and sat there staring at us. I said "do you see that?" and Mama said "yes" and then "that's your Daddy." The owl visits me from time to time when I'm home visiting. One night I was sitting on the porch smoking and I looked down past the holly bushes that line the entire porch but break at the step down onto the path from the porch to the sideewalk and something was casting a shadow. I thought "That's a big cat." But it wasn't a cat. It was the owl, sitting on the grass. I got up, opened the door slightly and summoned my Mom. She saw it too - it stayed despite our movements. In Dec 2012, my Grandmother was in the hospital a few weeks from death. I was alone in my Mom's house Christmas eve - my Mom was staying at the hospital. I was in bed, and thought about how I'd never been alone on Christmas. And just then the owl made it's "hooting" sound.
Animals are sent as signs. And in my experience, at the right moment.
Animals are God’s greatest gifts to us and the way most people treat them, daily, brings a constant tear to my eye and pain to my heart and soul. Not just Dogs. ALL animals. Man needs to change and stop thinking and acting like everything was placed on this earth to be used by him as he sees fit.
The Horrific Dog festivals in Asia? Bull fighting in Spain? Zoos that are only to use and abuse God’s creatures for profit? Maiming wild animals so they can be used for selfies? The Redlands dumping grounds in Florida? Confining elephants to 30 or more years, entirely alone, watching them slowly go mad?
I have deer and also a rabbit I call “Bugs” who I watch daily in my backyard. He/she comes back every year to the same spot for some Romaine lettuce. We had a hummingbird (“Buttercup”) who came back every year for 5 or 6 years and said goodbye each time she left for the year. They can tell which humans are ok and which are not. It’s no wonder many species are turning nocturnal to avoid mankind. This is fact.
That deer was not only listening to you sing that beautiful, heart wrenching song. (Your voice is so soothing, probably, even to them. I suspect that deer knew that song or at least the lyrics, if you know what I’m saying.
Every night and day I pray to God for the safety and welfare of all animals. I’m in no way surprised that you did exactly what you did. That’s because it’s what I would have done and have done. Rescue any way we can. Sorry to go off, but you hit a nerve here that’s been exposed since I was a child. Bless you for showing people the benefit of them. We can all use some unconditional love and good luck. Animals are the only beings on this earth we will get that from. May God bless them all! JB