Here come old flatfoot

Groovin' up slowly. Paraphrasing John Lennon.

Flatfoot is a cottontail rabbit with a bad rear leg, with whom I have a sort of relationship. I've mentioned him before, how he would sometimes take a cracker from my hand. We first met a couple years back, when I found him rummaging through the birdseed I tossed out when cleaning my lovebird's cage. FF's back leg had been recently damaged then and he left bright red spots in the snow wherever he went.

I didn't expect him to be around long, since even fully-functional cottontails have brief lives, being such succulent sources of energy for almost every predator.

But he came around almost regularly for two years, and we began sort of watching for each other every morning, I enjoyed the kinship with a representative of the wild animal kingdom, and he at least enjoyed the ritz crackers (and I hope more). Sometimes I'd be sitting in my screened back porch in nice weather, and he'd lope by, and, if he heard me in there, might stand up on his hind legs and look in. The damaged leg had long ago stopped bleeding, but it stayed deformed and he was careful not to put much weight on it.

Several months ago he seemed to disappear, and I put it down to the inevitable. That suggested images of how harsh nature can be, and I pictured him either dying a slow and private death somewhere (the best alternative), or under a car, or being caught and dismembered by a coyote, dog, hawk, owl, or whatever else. Morbid speculations.

Early last week I looked out the back window and saw a large, fluffed up, cottontail, sitting on the back step of the porch. I thought I recognized him, and went to grab a cracker. By the time I returned the step was empty, and I wondered, kind of hoped, it was one of those spiritual manifestations I hear about, good ol' FF showing up to say goodbye.

But yesterday he showed up again, in all his fluffy, gimpy, glory. He stuck around while I fetched a cracker, and calmly ate it as I stood a few feet away, as "the winds of the old days blew through our hair" (Joan Baez).

Gave me an unexpected blast of warmth on a cold winter's day. Nice to know the Grim Reaper seems to have given FF a temporary pass, for which, I think I can speak for both of us, we are grateful.