Today I saw my yard bunny building one of her annual nests. Most of the time we humans don't get the pleasure of being privy to these secretive operations. I believe she trusts me, at least to an extent. I have shielded her from Bentley last year so he wouldn't see her and chase her . (Not good for his heart or her well being.) When I see her, or come upon her suddenly, I stop and let her know I'm not after her. The way to do that is to stop, look down, move slowly in another direction. Sometimes I even take a step back and assume a kind of hunched, humble posture, sort of like the way Asian cultures show each other respect.
Yes, I realize this sounds rediculous. Only do it if you really want to have a personal relationship with the wildlife in your world; and of course if you have a high fence so the neighbors won't laugh at you.
It really works. I always feel bad when I stumble into the backyard after the hawk has been there and flush all the birds out of their hiding spots. This has made me more self-aware and intraspective. If you go about your day in a frenzy, it might take some time for the critters to believe you have calmed down enough for them to read you. But they will if you stick with it. Besides, its a good discipline to slow down anyway. Who wants to live life like your hair's on fire?
This method also works on birds. There are at least two Mourning Doves that frequent our deck feeders who are unafraid. I just LOVE that! Since I was a small child I always felt bad that the birds I love so much were terrified of me. After all, I feed them, protect them, provide nesting material, plants with seeds and nectar, suet cakes, chase the squirrels and cats and generally treat them like outside pets. How 'bout a little love once in awhile! Well some of them finally heard my plea.
About 12 years ago I learned a valuable trick that I will share with you. It was taught to me by a tiny three pound Pomeranian. All of a sudden something would make me look up from whatever I was engrossed in and notice my little Buffey squinting at me in the most peculiar way. She would then burst into a wagging, wiggling celebration of joy. This happened so often that I just could not excuse it as coincidence.
I began to "squint" back at her and she would keep it up for some time. It was our little game and one of the pivotal points in my education on communication between species. I began to understand that although Buffey was the tinest of dogs she was the hugest of Souls; filled with Love and sharing it with me. She knew what she was doing and so do many of the animals we pass off as cute, but dumb. Not so! There is a Light in them that sometimes we have to squint to see.
A few years after her passing while pondering how to communicate with birds, Buffey's "lovey" eyelid method came to mind. Animal experts maintain that looking bears, apes and big cats straight in the eyes is a challenge to them and generally irritates and ticks them off. Why wouldn't the opposite be true? Since we don't have any lions or tigers or bears in our yard... (oh my!) I deciced to try to be a "Mourning Dove whisperer" instead. It worked!
In fact, they do it back to me. By the way doves have lovely blue eyelids! The large slider window between my living room and the porch where the feeders are helps keep a "safety" barrier for them. I can chase the squirrel off their seed dish and they stay. I can wave off the bully birds (Grackles and Starlings) and they wait til they're gone and hop back on the food bowl. I believe the two doves most often on my deck understand now that I won't hurt them. Perhaps they will convince the whole flock. Although I haven't found any tiny little thank you notes out there, I know they appreciate it on some level. And it thrills me to no end to have some kind of communication with these birds. Now back to the Easter Bunny...
Its hard to tell if this is the same rabbit who has been here for years. The Eastern Cottontail can live from about three years to eight if protected from preditors. It's pretty safe here and she's perfectly happy to share the yard with me. I do the non-threatening droopy-eye thing to her and she just sits there munching her lunch. I wonder if she is thinking "what a nutjob human this one is!" But, nonetheless, she isn't afraid.
The other day, little Zach next door accidently lost his frisbee over my fence and right in the middle of where Mrs. Bunny was collecting nesting material. She was travelling with huge mouthfuls of dry grass
back and forth depositing them in the cavity she dug at the base of the rose bush. It was fascinating to watch. She let me come within five feet of her as she patiently waited for me to return the requested red
UFO. At one point she turned her back to me, the ultimate sign of trust in the animal kingdom. (Of course I was using my wacky "walk softly and carry a big heart" action on her!)
Rabbit babies are dependent on Mom for only two weeks after birth and "does" can have about five litters of five offspring. So, this Spring I'm looking forward to lots of tiny little Easter fluffballs bouncing around the yard. You don't even have to be a Christian to love that!
