I am a bunny who tends to socialize with other bunnies. We nibble the same greens and communicate in familiar yips and nips known only to other bunnies.
Sure, my cottontail may be rounder, my hind legs more muscular, and my nose twitchier than some of my other bunny friends’ physical attributes, but taking all minor differences aside, we still feel safe among our own.
When a coyote, snake, or roadrunner enters our countryside, we flee to safety of thickets and holes.
However, hiding in our warrens, we try our bunniest to be tolerant of those who are different (as long as they aren’t interested in eating us for dinner). Quail and small birds fall into that category.
Snakes, roadrunners, and especially coyotes present us with a major dilemma.
Despite our knowledge that our predators want to lick the marrow from our fragile bones, we still have compassion for them because, well, we are bunnies!
What is a compassionate bunny like me to do?
“For starters,” said the Snake, “stop being so damn compassionate. It will get you killed for sure. And while you consider toning down your soft-hearted response to every Kim, Dictator, and Harry, try expressing the rage you really feel instead of hip-hopping around, donating to charities that make you feel good about your freedoms.”
That wasn’t nice to say.
But then, you really didn’t mean it, did you? Or, did you?