Friday, October 23, 2009

Adventures of a Domestic Rabbit

This is a story with a happy ending. The rabbit is back. It's not the end I expected.

On the evening of October 8, I heard a squeal in the woods outside my bedroom window. It was the panic scream of a rodent. My first thought was that it sounded like a rabbit. I thought of the wire cage housing my "Easter bunny" and was comforted by the confidence that no predator could get to her. I decided it must have been a hapless chipmunk.

The next day, my daughter discovered the empty rabbit cage. The door was propped open. The rabbit was gone. I was somehow distracted the previous day and left the door open and the rabbit, naturally, went exploring.

As I remembered the previous night's squeal, my heart sank. What had discovered and attacked our domestic rabbit, so ill-trained for wilderness survival? I had intentionally fostered goodwill between the rabbit and the dogs and cat, trying to persuade our household predators that the rabbit was "family" rather than prey. Had those attempts resulted in disaster in the absence of healthy fear on the rabbit's part and my restraining hand on the dog?

The rabbit was a gift, a pedigreed 4H show bunny. How could I admit to my generous friends that I lost it by leaving the cage door open? Even though the empty cage was discovered as I was rushing out the door for a meeting, I took time for a brief and futile search -- no rabbit, dead or alive. It was gone. The dogs took a "no comment" position. I wanted to cancel the meeting, but, really, it was only a missing rabbit. It's not like rabbits are hard to replace. Male rabbit plus female rabbit and you have a whole litter to choose from in thirty days. And it's not as though the lost rabbit was particularly affectionate. Any time we let her loose in the house, she would lead us on a merry chase as she evaded capture. Still, the panic scream echoed in my head and my gut ached as I visualized the fate of our pet due to my carelessness.

As I waited for time to ease the initial shock of what I had done, I wondered... How many parents are haunted by a child's scream -- a child hit by a vehicle, maybe theirs; a child losing his or her grip and falling or being swept away by current or wave. How can they endure the endless echoes of that final scream of pain and panic? How do they ever go on with life? What would it be like to multiply the grief I felt for the rabbit by the huge value factor involved with a child. I can't begin to imagine the pain and suffering.

A week after the rabbit escaped, my husband captured her in pixel form sitting not far from her cage by the kitchen door. As soon as he touched the doorknob, she was gone. I wouldn't have believed it but the rabbit in the photo he printed was definitely ours. A few days later he found her by the woodpile. Three of us closed in on her. She let us get close and then disappeared under the wood. A flashlight revealed her at the end of a long hollow run, far beyond reach. The day after that, she let Dave touch her nose when he was out feeding the wood furnace. And a few hours later she sat still by the entrance to her woodpile "burrow" and let me catch her.

Was twelve days enough for the rabbit get her fill of life in the wild and decide to resign herself to being caged in exchange for protection from the dangers of the world along with daily food and water? Did the change of diet from pellets to greens leave her without enough energy to run? Who knows what goes on in the mind of a domestic rabbit? She seems lighter and more appreciative of being a pet, easier to catch in the house, less determined to get away when carried, more inclined to come close to fingers reaching through the cage wire. The failure to fight capture could be simply a lack of energy, but it doesn't take much energy to avoid fingers coming through the cage wire.

I'm pretty sure the scream I heard that first night was the rabbit. It must have escaped from whatever was after it and found a hiding place. What blessing there is in happy endings. Oh that all the endings could be happy endings. My heart still aches when I think of all the many tragedies for which there is no happy ending.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Marsha, Did you write these things?



* Setting the record straight
* Posted by Marsha on October 14, 2009 at 11:00am EDT
*

Dr. Colling was not "forced" to resign. He chose to.

The problem people had with Random Designer was not the science in it. People took issues with the theology he wove into the book, which was significantly off the mark. One way his book could (and was) interpreted by many was that God started the ball rolling on the creation process, but then completely stepped aside to see what happened, never to intervene again. (I.e., God had no plan or purpose, and he doesn't work through miracles today). I'm not sure that this accurately portrayed what he actually believes, but you can see how that would have significant negative implications on a faith community. As a scientist, Dr. Colling was out of his league. He was no more prepared to explain theological intricacies than a pastor would be to explain complicated scientific processes.

His book was also self-published, therefore never going through the rigorous review that goes with the traditional publishing process. The more controversy stirred up, the more books he sold.

Question for Inside Higher Ed... Have you ever attempted to contacted the pastors who had issues with Random Designer, or did you simply take Dr. Colling's word for it that they were simple minded fundamentalists opposed to scientific fact?

Marsha Lynn said...

Dear Anonymous,

These are not my words. If you knew me well I doubt you would need to ask. Unlike your comment or the post you copied, anything I post has my full name attached to it.

Rick Colling said...

Good. I will believe you.

Actually, I am glad it is not you, since it betrays a substantial ignorance and misrepresentation of the facts by someone who seems to represent themselves as an authority on the matter. I did not think you would do such a thing.
Forgive me, but after viewing some of your Naznet posts, I had to ask.

Rick Colling

Marsha Lynn said...

Ah... Thanks for the identification. It helps put your question in context.

I can see why you thought I might be the "Marsha" who posted. However, there are a several clues that those words are not mine.

1. As far as I know, I have never written anything that could be taken as a critique of your book. I read it in the first half of the decade, before all the uproar, and found it interesting and informative.

2. Although I have written in support of the Olivet administration in the face of strong criticism by the NazNet community, I have never defended the outside voices trying to shape university policy.

3. I don't write with nearly that level of self-assurance. If I ever do, I hope someone will call me on it.

Thanks for asking rather than assuming I was behind it.

Rick said...

No problem, Marsha.

I read the Naznet posts, and was genuinely surprised. I had (naively as it turns out) always believed that facts and truth would carry the day, and that folks who called themselves Nazarene Christians would seek out these things before rendering opinions.

When members of the Christian clergy engage in intentional, systematic and unapologetic falsehood and misrepresentation - all while claiming the mantle of the Holy Spirit to justify their actions and communications - this not only takes the name of the Lord God in vain, but also sets a horrendous example for the next generation. I will not be a part of such an organization.

The 21st century Pharisees are alive and well: I have met them up close and personal. They do great harm to the cause of the faith. Jesus' instructions regarding them were clear: "Leave them; they are blind guides... and unless your righteousness exceed theirs, you will not enter the kingdom."

I sent my letter last week instructing the local pastor and district superintendent to remove my name from membership in the church of the Nazarene.

Sally and I will be moving on.

Rick

Marsha Lynn said...

Rick, I'm sorry that your relationship with the CotN is ending this way. I hope and pray that moving on will lead you to greener pastures.

I'm pretty sure that truth prevails in the end. But maybe this isn't quite the end.

May God bless you in all you do.

Marsha
(who has a faded memory of you as an Olivet student taking an interest in her camp counselor at NEI senior high camp -- I was impressed by you then and appreciate the role you have played at Olivet over the years.)

Anonymous said...

Thanks Marsha. The truth will be revealed when church leaders hold each other to the same moral, ethical, and conduct standards that expect from members - something that cannot easily occur when ignorance, fear, power and money are the primary drivers.