When I was a child, my dad worked building the first gravel roads around our small prairie town.
He was known near and far for his CAT operating skills.
While Dad was out on his daily work schedule, he’d often come across wounded and/or abandoned animals.
His soft heart resulted in a great variety of temporary pets for us kids. Once they were nursed back to heath, or had grown enough, the critters were released back to their home in the fields.
One spring, he brought home two abandoned baby rabbits. He promptly built a cage for them and all seemed rosy and filled with love of nature, until …
Taking turns cleaning the rabbit cage became a part of the chore list for my sis and me.
All the love of baby bunnies went downhill from there.
If you’ve ever had to clean a rabbit cage, you’ll understand.
*My feature photo is courtesy of Google images*
Radically Retired 
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