Daddy and Flossy were doing sprints in the garden and cane across what they thought was a mole hill.
Upon closer inspection the small mound of brown turned out to be a wild rabbit.
It was still breathing but was clearly not well. It didn’t run away or react to observers.
We returned with a box and some warm clothes to keep the rabbit warm in case it was in shock having been attacked by a local bird of prey.
It’s eyes were swollen and it’s breathing labored. There was a small pill of white granules near it’s mouth.
We called our country residing friend and were advised it was likely that either, it had mixamatosis or had been poisoned by a local farmer.
Clear that there was nothing to be done we bundled up the poor creature and put it undercover so it would not be attacked by any of the other wild local inhabitants.
It died later that night.
The girls talked about which of the two options was most likely. They had great sensitivity for the rabbit, little compassion or empathy for the farmer and strong feelings about becoming veterinarians following the discussion.
Living outside has led to such a huge increase in understanding about nature, the circle of life and most importantly, respect for our environment.
The poor rabbit will join other biodegradable materials in the bonfire in case it is contagious:-(