Usually I post about my crazy family, but today I am a bit more serious.
As I pulled in to the parking spot this morning, I saw a crow swoop down and grab something furry. I watched with wonder as the crow landed. It held the furry creature down with its claws and picked and pecked at it with that black beak. The victim struggled to get away. It squirmed and twisted, trying to aggravate the black feathered villain. The crow grabbed it up and tried to fly with it again. But it was pretty big. It set it down in the middle of the lane, where the cars drive to get to the parking lot itself.
I got out of my vehicle and walked closer to the crime. I saw that the victim was a cute, brown baby bunny. I wasn't angry or mad, just sad. This is how life goes. I walked over toward the predator and its prey, and crow hopped off the bunny. The bunny just laid there for a for what seemed like minutes, but was only a few seconds. I stood there and told it to get up. I looked at the crow and told it to leave. The crow flew up to the closest tree and kept watch over its victim. The injured animal struggled to flip over on to its stomach and tried to hop away. It made it a few steps, then laid down to rest. Then got up and hopped some more. I kept encouraging it. Its hind legs or back must have been injured, but it made it under a parked car, headed for safety. Then I walked into the building. I tried to do what I could to help the poor defenseless fur ball out. I guess I did my good deed for the day.