A Nurturing Man Who's Gone Nuts

“Whooooooo,” went the screech owl near dawn. He was perched on a branch with lots of birds swarming around. I woke up my husband Bob to see. 

He looked, then raced out of bed and ran naked into the yard. “Owls eat small birds!” he yelled over his shoulder. With his arms flailing he shouted, “Go home!” to the owl. But owls never listen.

He came back in, fretting. He fed our dog and cats. Then he went out and opened the coop so our pet ducks could play in their fenced-in area. Bob is very paternal.

Gracie, the dog, soon began barking like crazy outside the back door. This always means, “Come quick!” in dog. At her feet was a tiny bunny. Bob carefully picked it up. Gracie, though, was still obviously upset. Like Lassie, she herded us about 20 feet away where there was a nest and another bunny.

“Put your bunny in the nest, Bob.” He was cradling the baby. “Go ahead, sweetheart. It’s not yours to keep.” He protectively held the little rabbit to his chest and sang softly, “And if that mockingbird won’t sing, Papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.” I gently pried it from his arms and put it in the nest.

I called the local wildlife center. “Leave them alone and let the mother take care of them,” the director of the center said.

I could hardly hear her because Bob was beside me, crying. I held the phone away. “What is the matter with you?” I whispered.

“The babies need me,” he said, whimpering.

“How do we know if the mother is around?” I asked the wildlife expert.

“Have you seen an adult rabbit?”

I said to Bob, “Have you seen a rabbit?”

He looked away. “I’m not sure,” he said, sniffling.

“You have to tell the truth, Bob. If there’s a mother, it’s best for her to tend to them.”

He refused to answer.

“Just tell me.” I said, trying to be patient. “Have you seen something hopping around with really big ears and a cotton tail?”   

“Maybe I have and maybe I haven’t.”

“Yes,” I said to the director. “The mother’s around.”

We let nature take its course, which wasn’t easy for Bob. Soon, he went into a postpartum thing. “I’m a terrible father,” he said one morning, while bingeing on chocolate. His moods shifted to extremes. One day, he was standing with his hands on his hips about 10 feet from the mother rabbit and saying, “I cook. I clean. I do everything around here! You could show a little appreciation.”

“Honey?” I called out. “You’re arguing with a rabbit.” 

And so, when I saw Bob holding the baby bunny with such tenderness that day, I wanted to promise him that all the nestlings in our yard will always be safe from harm. But I couldn’t. I wanted to tell him that because of the love in his heart, he can protect all the little ones. But he can’t.

Instead, I told him I was blessed to be married to someone who rushes out in the night when he hears an animal crying, who never forgets to give our arthritic old duck her aspirin or put salve on our cat’s raw chin.

And who truly believes that by chasing away the screech owl, he’ll save a little bird.