A Bunny Tale

On my way home from town on Sunday, I ran over a chipmunk. As he sprinted under my car, I debated whether I should brake or accelerate, trying to calculate just what his speed was in relation to mine. Before I could decide, I heard the sickening thunk. I looked in my review mirror and saw his tiny limp body.

That brought back some memories. I had just returned home from my second year of college. My parents had gone camping for the weekend. A friend (a male friend!) from college called to say that he and his family were in town camping for the weekend and would I like to go fishing.

I naturally said, yes, though fishing wasn’t high on my list of favorite activities, but it was a sunny day and any sunny day in a boat on the lake would be a good one. I changed clothes and jumped in Mom’s car. I swear I never heard any instructions about not running around in her car.

I truly was driving safely, watching the road, hands at two and ten o’clock. I was not speeding to get to town. But that darn rabbit came out of nowhere. I slammed on the brakes this time.

Thunk. It was the first time I had ever hit anything with the car. I stopped in the middle of the road and looked in the mirror. His fluffy bunny body lay twitching near the yellow center line.

What should I do, I asked myself. Surely I couldn’t save him. Should I carry him (kick him?) to the side of the road? Let his final resting place be the gravel ditch? The grassy bank?

His body stopped twitching and lay still on the road. I looked ahead, down the road towards town.

Sigh. There was really nothing I could do. I drove on.

When I returned home later that evening, his body was gone. 

Was I too much of a softy then? Am I still? Isn’t that okay though? Isn’t it better to be kindhearted to all of God’s creatures? And why can’t the rest of the world have that kind of compassion? Have any kind of compassion towards other human beings?