We try to walk to school when we can. It’s a mile through lovely wooded open space. The paths meander through playgrounds and over creeks. This morning we saw a baby bunny in the grass by the path. It looked like a stuffed animal, only you could see it shaking and breathing hard, it was so terrified. A large chunk of its hide was missing, and you could see the raw, red skin on its back.

The Boy asked if we could take care of it. He could see the bunny was in pain. I said I didn’t know how best to help. I didn’t think it wise for me to try to scoop up an injured animal and walk it a mile to school, and then a mile back home, and then try to find a veterinarian that could help. I said if it was still there on my way back home, I’d see what I could do.

As we walked, we talked about how the bunny could have been injured. The children were very sad and concerned. They talked about the bunny’s mother, and how she must be scared too. We talked about how a band-aid probably wouldn’t help much in this case, and I was fresh out of large band-aids, gauze pads, and Neosporin anyway. We talked about how I didn’t have pockets to put the bunny in, and how it could bite me when frightened. They were very distressed by this all.

Then as we continued walking, La Chica brightened up and said, “I can’t wait to tell my teacher that we saw a bunny on the way to school today. I’m going to tell her it looked like a chocolate Easter bunny with wide eyes. And it was having a bad hair day.”

I turned to look at her. “What?!” I asked, “Bad hair day? A chunk of his hide was ripped off his back! If it gets infected the bunny might not live!”

She looked at me with her wide, innocent eyes, and said, “It was a beautiful bunny. I’m glad we got to see it. Really, if you think about it, he’s just having a bad hair day.”

Perspective. Gratitude. Thanks for the reminder, La Chica. Totally need that right now as I’m having a bad hair day myself.