Milton and Other Beloved Creatures

My daughter sent me an instructional video about how to befriend a crow. She is a bigtime nonprofit executive but fascinated by crows and wildlife in general. This makes sense to me because she was always fearless with creatures. I have a picture of her when she was about five, dressed in dungarees, holding a snake she’d found minutes before. She is older but still as brave.

For a good while at the beginning of the pandemic, my husband and I had an unusual friendship with a bunny that we named Milton. Milton would wait in the bushes next to the house and then when we came down the driveway with our dogs for our morning venture to the dog park, he’d perk up, cock his tiny head, quiver his whiskers. He wouldn’t move, he’d just change the electricity around him, and it was enough for us to know he was there.

Then we would say, “Hi, Milton!” like we were three-year-olds told to wave to the giraffe at the zoo.

In our anxious, masked world, Milton became our emotional support wild animal. We’ve never developed such a bond with a squirrel though there are dozens around here. Milton was unique. Warm, compassionate, loyal, and deeply sensitive to our need for consistency and hopefulness.

And then winter came and went, a couple of times. We didn’t see Milton for a long time and then there was a new bunny on the lawn (not in the bushes), and we played with the idea that he or she was Milton’s offspring but, obviously, there was no way of knowing. And, we didn’t have the same feelings for the new bunny.

Milton was a once in a lifetime rabbit.

At nighttime, I spread three blankets on the floor next to our bed and that is where Swirl and Tempest sleep. Then, after I get into bed, the cat comes and curls up next to my feet. It makes me feel like Snow White. All that is missing are the little singing birds landing on my finger and the dwarfs. I love these creatures and, of course, the human creature sleeping next to me. But I miss Milton, and I wonder about the crow idea.

Maybe I could make a crow be my friend. It just takes weeks of consistency and patience, traits I could acquire somehow from somewhere unless it’s too late for me. There is always that chance, you know, considering my advanced years.