A couple of months ago, in March 09, a friend and I had a memorable experience with the "Rescuer". (I've done several posts on the "Rescuer Archetype", you may want to review). We were going home from a music-playing event on a Sunday evening, just as it was getting dark. It was still very much winter in Minnesota, and getting dark about 6 or 6:30 PM.

As we were just about to pull out onto the main street, a little cottontail rabbit came running across the main road toward us. A car was speeding along and hit the rabbit, just grazing it... it rolled into a little ball in the middle of the road, and I put the car in park and started to get out to go and rescue the bunny.

In the span of 2 or 3 seconds, he seemed to recover a bit, adrenaline rushing, and he took off again toward the side of the road where we were. He was obviously lame but was really trying hard to get to safety.

Before he could get to the side, or we could intervene in any way, another car came along and the rabbit was hit a second time. That was a pretty good hit to his hind quarters... one more second and he would have made it to safety. But he was one second too slow, and that blow was too much.

My friend and I rushed over to the bunny and scooped him up, and as I held him, he was still very warm and I could feel the life force leaving his broken little body. His huge brown eyes were wide open, but his spirit had already left.

Now what? We both instantly agreed that we could not leave him on the road to be run over again and again, nor could we just toss his lifeless body into a dumpster or into the shrubbery along the side of the road.

We had witnessed and participated in something very extraordinary. Though it was a totally ordinary and insignificant little rabbit in one way, it became very significant to us. Witnessing life giving way to death is an extraordinary event.

We had stepped forward to attempt to rescue the little fellow, and though we were 2 seconds too late, we had committed to a relationship and we agreed that we now had an obligation to follow through and give a little rabbit who had suddenly popped into our lives a proper send-off.

There was an old towel on the floor in the back of the car, so we put the lifeless little bunny on that and then drove on, thinking about what to do next. In Minnesota, the ground is frozen several inches deep in March. The lakes were still being used for ice fishing, so we knew we wouldn't have a chance of digging a hole in the ground to bury the rabbit. We had already ruled out the notion of putting him in a dumpster; he deserved more regard than that. We considered burying him under some snow until things warmed up, but figured that scavengers would find his little body, and we didn't want that. So my friend said that he would make a fire the next day and cremate him, and have a little ceremony.

The next day he emailed me to tell me that he had done this, and we discussed it a little. It had been on my mind. Not the least of all the questions it brought up for me was a) why we felt compelled to rescue him in the first place, and b) why we felt a relationship with the rabbit, even though the whole encounter from when we first saw him until he was dead in my hands was only a minute, and c) why we felt an obligation to give him a proper send-off. I have also wondered what would have happened if we had gotten to him after the first hit, when he likely could have survived but would have needed veterinary care and follow-up nursing. Would we have had the commitment to invest that much in a little rabbit? What is the value of life? Especially for a creature that is a member of a very common species and many regard as a pest when it nibbles away their springtime flowers and summertime garden produce.

I really thought a lot about that, and I realized that one factor that made this so powerful was how hard that little rabbit was trying to stay alive. He had just survived a hard Minnesota winter, one of the coldest in 10 or 15 years. He was thin, but he had made it somehow. He was hit by a car, injured but not fatally, and still kept trying to get to the other side, to get to safety.

I admire honest effort, and I know I have struggled with many efforts in many contexts. Some have been successful, and many of my efforts have failed. Sometimes, when a being is struggling and making effort against all odds, it deserves a little grace......A totally unearned and unexpected act of kindness or generosity from out of the blue. That little rabbit needed a little grace. I regret that we were a moment too late.

He reminded us of something else of great importance.... how quickly we can go from life to death, surrendering all our efforts and leaving behind nothing but a carcass that somebody needs to take care of. Life is precious and fragile. We are always just a heartbeat away from our death, and we never know which heartbeat it might be. We all hope when it is our time to go, someone will care enough to give us a decent send-off.

Thanks, Little Rabbit, for the reminders.

Tags: Rescuer