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May 13, 2008
The Tragic Death of Bunny-Wunny
Yesterday as I turned out of the library parking lot I found myself facing an SUV that had been coming toward me, stopped dead in the road. The driver was a woman perhaps in her early thirties, and I could clearly see a look of horror on her face, her eyes wide, knuckles clenched on her mouth. Then I saw what she was looking at. In the street between us a magnificent red-tail hawk was moving the carcass of his freshly killed prey, a mature rabbit--something you don't see every day up close. It was heavy work. He grasped it with his talons and lifted it a few feet at a time toward a lawn where he could begin his meal. The lady looked a me as though we were witnessing the Holocaust together, and I smiled back.
I am a gardener, and regard that hawk, as well as a number of creepy, crawly, squishy, slithery, warty, bitey things as my friends and helpers. I cheer the hawk. I raise a toast to him. I hope he comes up to Racine and has a look at our worthless cat (no--I take that back). The reason the lady can regard rabbits (if she does) as fuzzy-wuzzy, widdle cutesy bunnies, whose deaths by predation are tragic, instead of as a plague of noisome, verminous pests, is because our friend the hawk is on the job, keeping their numbers down to the place where they can still be regarded as "nice." Ask any Australian about this.
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I recall a similar situation.
I was sitting on my front porch watching a rabbit hop across a field, towards the road and the field beyond. As the rabbit was just beginning to cross the road, a car came by hit it, knocking it flying over the car and onto the pavement.
The driver slammed on the breaks, jumped out of the car and ran back to examine the rabbit. Then, she went back to the car, opened the trunk and got out an aerosol can. She returned to the rabbit, used the can; and to my surprise the rabbit revived. It got up, hopped a few steps towards the field, turned and gestured to the woman. It then hopped a few more steps into the field, turned and gestured, and continued on across the field and out of sight.
At this, I came over and questioned the driver about the contents of the aerosol, how it revived the rabbit and caused such odd behavior.
"Well," she said, "It's just hare restorer with permanent wave."
(Sorry, I couldn't resist)
Posted by: The Byzantine Rambler | May 13, 2008 8:24:37 AM
I don't know about that conclusion. Deer are real pests in many places, destroying ornamental and vegetable plants, changing the character of woodlands and spreading Lyme disease. But the sentimentalists still raise a big fuss at attempts to reduce the deer population through controlled hunts, even though leaving them to breed without limit just consigns them to eventual death by starvation or disease.
Posted by: Judy K. Warner | May 13, 2008 8:46:22 AM
I don't know about that conclusion. Deer are real pests in many places, destroying ornamental and vegetable plants, changing the character of woodlands and spreading Lyme disease. But the sentimentalists still raise a big fuss at attempts to reduce the deer population through controlled hunts, even though leaving them to breed without limit just consigns them to eventual death by starvation or disease. The same folk that have "War is not the answer" bumper stickers.
Posted by: Judy K. Warner | May 13, 2008 8:48:15 AM
"even though leaving them to breed without limit just consigns them to eventual death by starvation or disease"
or in my area, to be hit by cars, potentially causing human injury or death. Of course one can argue that overdevelopment is destroying their habitat, so that less space has just as much to do with it as does a higher population. This is definitely true in the part of Western Pa. where I live.
Posted by: Rob G | May 13, 2008 9:01:48 AM
We have a couple of beautiful red-tailed hawks that breed on our campus. I'm not sure where the nest is; it used to be atop the spire of the main administration building. Anyway, the campus is ideal for hawks, what with all the squirrels and rabbits. A few years ago I saw one of the hawks perched in a tree, with a dead rabbit hanging from its talons. I watched it for a while, and then, the boy in me surfacing (it is never far from the surface, as my students will attest), I lobbed a pebble or two its way, to see it move. Finally it did, lifting off with its powerful wings, its legs still straight down, with the rabbit firmly clutched. I thought it was magnificent ...
A few weeks ago one of the hawks came to the ground, then to the top of a lamppost, while I was having class with my students. Naturally, we stopped what we were doing to watch. The hawk stayed where he was, so I sent one of my students over to see if he could get him to fly. He went over, got pretty close, but the hawk stood still. "Squeak like a mouse, Jeff!" I shouted to him. "Squeak like a mouse!" He didn't -- but the laughter did the trick.
Posted by: Tony Esolen | May 13, 2008 9:06:33 AM
Speaking of deer, I pastor a small Alabama church. Lots of hunter in the area, lots of deer in the area. It is not uncommon to hear of someone out here hitting a deer that jumps in front of their car. One of the kind hearted souls at my church suggested we plant rye grass all around the church to attract the deer and keep them off the road. Not to mention the added bonus that this will attract hunters to the church during hunting season. Not a bad bonus considering hunting season usually drives them away from the church.
Nonetheless, despite the kindhearted nature of this suggestion, we decided to reject it.
As it turns out, rye grass will not be necessary, though the hunters are going to start seeing some new competition. It seems that giant pythons are on their way here.
Posted by: Chris Roberts | May 13, 2008 9:34:29 AM
>>>Of course one can argue that overdevelopment is destroying their habitat<<<
There are more deer now than when the east was completely forested. Mature forests lack the low plants that deer like. The best habitat for deer is "edge" -- where the woods meets the fields -- and development creates a lot of that. They can live in pretty small areas, too, as any suburbanite will tell you. When my environmentalist sister first visited us in the development where we live -- 3-acre lots -- she complained that this is the worst use of land because the lots are too small for large wildlife. She forgot to tell the three deer who live on a few of our lots, or the bear who comes down the mountain and visits the development every few years, or the cougars that have been spotted.
Posted by: Judy K. Warner | May 13, 2008 9:40:13 AM
It must be different where you live, Judy. In our area, even with expanded hunting, deer are killed on the highways by the dozens everyday. In my township, this is definitely related to development -- removal of woods and fields, and paving over it all. Just over the past few months, for instance, a multi-hundred acre area of woodland was developed for a 'commerce park' (whatever that is).
Having said that, however, there is in our area a fine example of how development can work with the landscape rather than against it. We have a large Bayer site not too far from me, and their land abuts on a fairly large county park. When Bayer took over this land, they just didn't come in and flatten and pave everything, but put the buildings in amongst the woods in some cases, in the process allowing for hiking trails, picnic areas, etc. They own a pretty sizable chunk of land, but it's actually very nicely laid out and in a manner harmonious with the landscape as opposed to your normal raze, bulldoze, and pave approach. And not surprisingly, you almost never see dead deer on the surrounding roads.
Posted by: Rob G | May 13, 2008 10:02:57 AM
>>>It seems that giant pythons are on their way here.<<<
Chris,
I am preparing to move to Birmingham this summer with my wife and four children. Let's not let my wife hear about this or she'll nix the deal. ;-)
On a more serious note, I don't see why the State of Florida doesn't declare open season on the pythons and even offer rewards to hunters who come in with the dead bodies or at least the skins as proof of the kill. I'm sure that it is too late to stop their permanent presence, but there is no reason to let them spread without a fight and I am sure that their are plenty of hunters who would enjoy the sport.
As to hawks, there are few things more beautiful to watch than a raptor hunting. Had I been on that parking lot with you, Steve, I would have had a smile on my face as well.
Posted by: GL | May 13, 2008 10:31:31 AM
Remember the Far Side cartoon with eagles wearing sunglasses: "Birds of prey know they're cool!"? Perhaps they also know they horrify a certain demographic, and enjoy it! (If not, we can enjoy it for them.)
Surely feral pythons in North America can legally be killed on sight?
Wild hogs not technically being native wildlife, they don't fall under normal game laws - even though they've been roaming our woods since the first settler lost a pig.
Posted by: Joe Long | May 13, 2008 10:45:53 AM
When we climb up on our church to clean the steeple, we always find the bones of our resident hawk's rabbit-victims.
Incidentally, rabbit meat is delicious. Mild, white-meat, but not dry. Rabbits are efficient converters of feed-into-flesh. Rabbit was a very popular meat in medieval and early modern England. Old English cookbooks have lots of rabbit recipes. I don't know why it never became very popular here.
Posted by: Bruce | May 13, 2008 11:03:27 AM
Steve,
I will, perhaps, mourn the death of one little bunny-wunny. The one that lives at the back of my Taco Bell in the drive-thru landscaping. For his disappearance will only confirm in me the desire to never order anything save an extra-large iced tea.
Tony,
Just as long as the little boy in you doesn't extend to picking up snakes and chasing the neighbor girl with them - as a boy in my neighborhood did with me. I was never afraid of snakes until Dougie started doing that.
By the way, I am planning on taking a training day at a raptor center on my next big vacation.
Kamilla
Posted by: Kamilla | May 13, 2008 11:15:20 AM
We have a number of hawks and falcons that nest in our neighborhood, even though we are less than nine miles from the Capitol. We frequently find the remains of their hunting forays in our yard (mostly feathers, bones and some of what my younger daughter calls "meaty bits"), though one particular incident stands out: we were leaving the house at 7:00 to drive the kids to school, and had just stepped out onto the porch when there was this gray flash from the sky, followed by an explosion of feathers and a rapidly climbing flying object. Seems our resident falcon had chosen that precise moment to stoop upon one of our resident doves, whom he proceeded to have for breakfast. Other victimes du jour have included squirrels, rabbits, rats, and a small opossum.
Regarding the deer, which are becoming more numerous even inside the beltway, the alpha predator at the apex of that food chain is the dreaded SUV.
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | May 13, 2008 11:25:39 AM
Hmmm. Apparently no one who has yet commented lives in an area frequented by moose. On the roads I travel regularly, "Beware of moose" signs are common. Tourist families are seen being photographed next to them. You hit a moose, and all that happens is that you knock its legs out from underneath it and it falls on your car, crushing you. And moose have no natural enemies hereabouts, so they also are unafraid of anything (brainworm also gets a few, and they wander anywhere...)
One story the wardens tell is of receiving a call from a woman who got tired of the moose crossing the road onto her front lawn (mother moose get a tad ugly when young ones tag along) so she called the state Fish and Game people to move the "Moose Crossing" sign by her driveway down the road a mile or so...
Posted by: Michael D. Harmon | May 13, 2008 11:37:20 AM
We have two red foxes on campus. I'm guessing it's because we've just started construction on five new apartment style dorms and the foxes are confused. I see they're on the college's community page now, so I guess everyone's taken a liking to them. As far as I know they haven't caused any harm, and I do like random foxes wandering about. I think it's cool. But if it was more than two or three foxes people would be calling for their removal.
Reminds me of winter back at home four years ago, we had a bad snow storm sometime in late November. It shocked a pack of wild Turkey's into town, where they wandered about for a month. Started with five, but they slowly began to dwindle in numbers. No clue why that would be, no clue at all...
Posted by: Keljeck | May 13, 2008 11:42:15 AM
Yesterday, all traffic on the Washington Beltway came to a screeching halt when a duckling wandered onto the highway. All the drivers, of their own volition, stopped their vehicles and watched as the duckling just sat there. Finally, one man got out, picked up the duckling, carried him to the side of the road, got back in his car, and started traffic moving again.
Which shows the hold that certain children's books can have on the adult psyche.
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | May 13, 2008 11:46:14 AM
I returned to my parents' home one spring in Northeast PA to find a hawk dead with it's head snapped back on the path in front of the den window. One look at the family cat sitting on the windowsill peering out at the bird from the inside enabled me to piece together what had happened. I don't think the cat knew how close she came to dying that day.
Posted by: Will | May 13, 2008 12:07:36 PM
>>> I don't think the cat knew how close she came to dying that day.<<<
I'm sure that the cat knew, and had planned it out to the last detail.
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | May 13, 2008 12:11:26 PM
I'm never saddened to see a squirrel or opossum or a deer in the road, but I am when I see foxes or racoons (which, by the by, are much rarer events). My recent encounters with wildlife include:
1) Hitting a deer I didn't see (son in passenger seat did). She apparently loped out of the woods with her head at my right headlight level just as I passed (at about 35 mph). That was depressing.
2) Watching a bevy of buzzards (12+) boil from a nearby creek as I drove over the bridge. They must have been eating something large. I've noted that buzzards and crows/ravents are both large enough to scare away red-tailed hawks.
3) Watching a racoon run across a road. It's rather like watching an agile bear with long forelegs run and they are remarkably fast.
I could use a few more foxes and hawks in my neighborhood. My garden is fenced high and low but there seems to be dozens of rabbits around and I'm a bit worried that one will find or force his way in and then ring a dinner bell. Our doofus dog just manages to prevent them from venturing too far into the mowed areas of our front yard.
Posted by: WED Godbold | May 13, 2008 12:13:54 PM
Oh, this morning I also saw a Canadian goose, his spouse, and their five goslings waddle across a road. That was really cute.
Posted by: WED Godbold | May 13, 2008 12:20:58 PM
I come from a Portuguese household, and the food growing up was great. One of my favorites was rabbit rice...a dirty rice dish with big chunks of rabbit meat,bay leaves, and who knews what else...the whole rabbit was in it. As I usually came home around the holidays, my mom would make it then, as a welcome home treat. It gave a whole new meaning to Easter bunny....
Posted by: windmilltilter | May 13, 2008 12:21:19 PM
Bunny. yuuummmm!
Posted by: Matt | May 13, 2008 12:23:42 PM
Bunny. yuuummmm!
Posted by: Matt | May 13, 2008 12:24:29 PM
Most common animal on the side of the road in New Brunswick, as far as I can tell: porcupine.
I love to watch birds of prey soaring, perching, preening, diving -- ospreys are tremendous, like bolts of lightning striking the water. Kingfishers are great too, making all that racket that the fish can't hear, circling about before they dive. But I also like to see the lesser birds nipping at the raptors. Kingbirds especially -- they have no fear. They'll pester a crow or even a hawk to exasperation, in flight, driving them away.
Orioles have been having breakfast on the blossoms of the apple tree in my backyard this spring. They get my vote for most beautiful bird you'll see in the suburbs, barely beating out the cardinal, the bluejay (we're too used to these), the bluebird, and the indigo bunting.
Posted by: Tony Esolen | May 13, 2008 12:36:30 PM
>>>I'm sure that the cat knew, and had planned it out to the last detail.<<<
I admit I thought better of the cat from that day on, but for the most part we never credited her with an overabundance of brains. Her predecessor, who was better trained than the dog, was vastly more intelligent and crafty. Oh the carnage that was our front lawn under his severe reign! Bats, frogs, chipmunks, squirrels, rabbits - they were all gifts for us, too. One day he tried to get us a car...
Posted by: Will | May 13, 2008 12:46:12 PM
Will,
Did you let the cat out so that he could enjoy eating the one who intended to eat him?
Posted by: GL | May 13, 2008 12:48:29 PM
I don't know that I'd totally dismiss the horror at the death of poor bunny-wunny. I'd hate to be deaf to the groans of creation - though wonder and glory is interwoven throughout.
I think Hopkins gets it perfect:
To Christ Our Lord
The legs of the elk punctured the snow’s crust and wolves floated lightfooted on the land hunting Christmas elk living and frozen; inside snow melted in a basin, and a woman basted a bird spread over coals by its wings and head.
Snow had sealed the windows; candles lit the Christmas meal. The Christmas grace chilled the cooked bird, being long-winded and the room cold. During the words a boy thought, is it fitting to eat this creature killed on the wing?
He had killed it himself, climbing out alone on snowshoes in the Christmas dawn, the fallen snow swirling and the snowfall gone, heard its throat scream as the gunshot scattered, watched it drop, and fished from the snow the dead.
He had not wanted to shoot. The sound of wings beating into the hushed air had stirred his love, and his fingers froze in his gloves, and he wondered, famishing, could he fire? Then he fired.
Now the grace praised his wicked act. At its end the bird on the plate stared at his stricken appetite. There had been nothing to do but surrender, to kill and to eat; he ate as he had killed, with wonder.
At night on snowshoes on the drifting field he wondered again, for whom had love stirred? The stars glittered on the snow and nothing answered. Then the Swan spread her wings, cross of the cold north, the pattern and mirror of the acts of earth.
Posted by: Wonders for Oyarsa | May 13, 2008 12:49:59 PM
I tell people that we lawyers are like other predators: just doing our job to keep human ecology in balance.
A few years back my wife and I were shopping for a new puppy. We visited a breeder near the north end of the San Fernando Valley. We noticed that the dog pens and runs had something like mosquito netting on top. I asked if this was to keep the pups from crawling out of the pens. Not at all, she smiled. It keeps the raptors from having a little midday snack.
Posted by: Bill R | May 13, 2008 12:51:37 PM
Perhaps its simply an expression of sympathy with the loss of the underdog?
Kamilla
Posted by: Kamilla | May 13, 2008 12:53:14 PM
"I don't know that I'd totally dismiss the horror at the death of poor bunny-wunny. I'd hate to be deaf to the groans of creation - though wonder and glory is interwoven throughout."
Good point, WFO. The fact that sentimentalists overdo it doesn't mean such sentiment should be totally dismissed.
Posted by: Rob G | May 13, 2008 1:04:02 PM
No, my parents told me to take a shovel and get the hawk off the path. Oreo wasn't trustworthy enough to be let out of the house. It was such a pain to get her back in. Flash, on the other hand, a terror to mice everywhere, could be a quarter mile away and so long as he heard you calling would come running at top speed.
Posted by: Will | May 13, 2008 1:13:05 PM
Apparently no one who has yet commented lives in an area frequented by moose.
Ah moose, they are magnificent (and terrifying!) creatures. I'll never forget a canoe trip I took in Algonquin park. We were on a small winding river and came around a bend to find a huge bull moose with a fantastic set of antlers not ten feet away completely blocking our path. He was feeding, and looked at us with complete disdain; there was no way he was moving! So we backed up as quietly as we could, and hoped he didn't feel like trashing our canoes. I've never been so close to so massive a wild animal. After about fifteen minutes or so he decided to ramble on down the river, and eventually into the forest. It made my day.
Posted by: David R | May 13, 2008 1:58:53 PM
Occasionally, a terrestrial raptor of one species or another will show up high in our drilling derrick in the Gulf of Mexico, presumably blown to sea by one of the frequent northers in the region. They seem to enjoy their perch 250 feet up, feeding on the smaller birds which also get blown our way and are plentiful. It's quite a sight to watch at sea.
Once a brown pelican was blown 90 miles out to our location, and its plight moved our seamen to catch, cage, and send it back to the coast on a workboat.
Our southern boys have inherited the British taste for rabbit, in spades. Many of my colleagues hunt rabbit and squirrel year round. A few of the more Acadian types even dine on the occasional nutria.
Posted by: Mairnéalach | May 13, 2008 2:13:26 PM
My friend lives on the beach and regularly tosses leftover bread products to the gulls. There are two bald eagles with overlapping hunting territories that live nearby, though we still haven't been able to find either nest. Last time I was over there, he and I had a proper feeding frenzy of gulls when one of the eagles passed by and perched on a tree about 60 yards away, watching. He lifted off rather laziy, circled once overhead. About fifteen feet in front of us, a gull had just tried to catch a piece of bread in midair (we were on the deck) when I lost sight of white and gray to be replaced with a mess of brown with a flash of yellow. There was a sickening squawk, and a gull became lunch.
Quite possibly the coolest thing I have ever seen.
I mean, yeah, poor gull. That's what I meant to say.
Posted by: Michael | May 13, 2008 3:06:59 PM
>>>I tell people that we lawyers are like other predators: just doing our job to keep human ecology in balance.<<<
I was thinking the other end of the Great Circle of Life: lawyers are scavengers, picking over the carcasses other people kill, nature's clean-up crew.
>>>Once a brown pelican was blown 90 miles out to our location, and its plight moved our seamen to catch, cage, and send it back to the coast on a workboat.<<<
Speaking of pelicans, I read yesterday that a brown pelican did a kamikaze number on a poor woman snorkeling off Florida. The woman got twenty stitches in her head, the Pelikan got the avian equivalent of seventy-two virgins.
So what is it with the marine wildlife these days? Sharks, OK, we know about that. But sting rays? Killer pelicans (has anyone else read Bored of the Rings)?
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | May 13, 2008 3:53:10 PM
I read it about 1986 (and laughed a lot, God help me), but the professor who was teaching me about Origen at the time (and who is now a Melkite) told me it was spiritually bad for me. So I got rid of it. The Lampooners are clever, but they're pretty shallow.
Posted by: WED Godbold | May 13, 2008 4:13:51 PM
"I was thinking the other end of the Great Circle of Life: lawyers are scavengers, picking over the carcasses other people kill, nature's clean-up crew."
Lawyers: we've got all the angles covered!
Posted by: Bill R | May 13, 2008 4:40:50 PM
>>>I was thinking the other end of the Great Circle of Life: lawyers are scavengers, picking over the carcasses other people kill, nature's clean-up crew.<<<
It's kind hard to argue with that observation.
Posted by: GL | May 13, 2008 4:57:21 PM
A poster in my housing complex: "What to do if a raccoon enters your apartment."
There were about a dozen tips. One said, "If the raccoon is inside, don't stand between it and the door." (Come on, do people really need to be told that?)
Later that winter, I was walking home on a cold rainy night, and sure enough, there was a masked bandit on my doorstep, waiting to be let in.
Posted by: Clifford Simon | May 13, 2008 5:45:13 PM
That reminds me of the "funniest home videos" episode where some folks set up a camera (IR for night vision, I think) to find out who was getting into their house and eating all the dog kibble.
Sure enough, it was one of those masked varmints. Sitting there, eating the kibble with one pay and keepin an eye on the camera as if he knew he was being recorded.
Kamilla
Posted by: Kamilla | May 13, 2008 5:51:37 PM
Once a raccoon came down our chimney with a huge bang. I went downstairs to see what it was, and there he was, running like mad around my office, trying to find the way out. I collected the cats and locked them in my bedroom (they were losing it, and in no mind to go challenge the intruder), then I went back downstairs, opened the front door, and announced to my unwanted visitor, "I'm going upstairs now. In fifteen minutes, I'm coming back down with a baseball bat. You had better be gone". He was.
But my most interesting close encounter of the critter kind happened while I was working at Scout camp. After a long, hot and grueling day, I walked back to my tent from the showers, and found a furry black and white thing under my cot. I was too tired to care. I carefully inserted myself into the cot and fell asleep. In the morning, I woke up refreshed and still smelling like a daisy.
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | May 13, 2008 6:03:56 PM
"In the morning, I woke up refreshed and still smelling like a daisy."
That was its name: Daisy?
Posted by: Bill R | May 13, 2008 6:14:04 PM
>>>That was its name: Daisy?<<<
"It's all right. He can call me Flower, if he wants to".
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | May 13, 2008 6:18:29 PM
We keep several laying hens. One day a couple of winters ago I found one of them lying dead behind the henhouse, her whole front ripped up. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground -- and no animal tracks. I was spooked until I remembered having seen a hawk hanging around the day before.
Posted by: Judy K. Warner | May 13, 2008 8:15:17 PM
>>(has anyone else read Bored of the Rings)?<<
Too bad my favorite bits don't exactly lend themselves to the polite nature of this site.
Posted by: Bobby Neal Winters | May 13, 2008 9:24:07 PM
To the original post, on one hand the horror at the sight of morte bunny-wunny is a symptom of Man's alienation of from nature due to the fall. On the other hand, the first animal blood shed was due to Man's fall because God sacrificed an animal to make clothing to cover their nakedness.
So does the woman's horror represent progess toward returning the pre-fallen state? Or is it simply just wussiness?
Posted by: Bobby Neal Winters | May 13, 2008 9:30:29 PM
Do you know, we can actually calculate when human beings began to wear clothing on the basis of genetic mutations between head lice and body lice?
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | May 13, 2008 9:36:09 PM
>>Do you know, we can actually calculate when human beings began to wear clothing on the basis of genetic mutations between head lice and body lice?<<
I'm guessin it was about 5 minutes after full-length mirrors were invented...
Posted by: Bobby Neal Winters | May 13, 2008 9:40:51 PM
It is proper that the woman had that reaction - nature red in tooth and claw is a result of the Fall, and not a thing God designed.
On the other hand, pragmatism about dealing with the present reality - including the permission to eat meat after the Flood as part of the Noachian Covenant, shouldn't be ignored. The local enviros use the power plant's heat to keep the lake melted during the winter, so that the Canadian geese don't fly south as they are supposed to. They have a significant attrition due to freezing to death, of course, and in the end, when H5N1 arrives, they will probably have to be butchered, and if they aren't, the flu will fell them in their abnormal concentrations.
Posted by: labrialumn | May 13, 2008 10:38:53 PM
Clothing after the Fall, of course was a sign of the blood atonement for their sins. But then, you did know that, right?
Posted by: labrialumn | May 13, 2008 10:41:11 PM
