Just before lunch today Adrian spotted a "baby" rabbit hiding at the bottom of the stairs, next to the filing cabinet. Immediately all resources were marshalled to rescue it (we assume the cat brought it in early this morning).
I obtained a small towel from the bathroom while Alex moved the CD tower and the wicker basket we use to keep umbrellas and cricket stumps in. Adrian managed to envelope the rabbit with the towel, and he was dispatched to release it in the rabbit-ridden fields some 200 metres from our house.
I was puzzled by our collective response.
Rationally we had a number of choices. We could have left it there (but it would have made a mess and the cat would certainly have made a bigger mess later) or we could have killed it ourselves and maybe ate it. But instead we chose the compassionate route and rescued it.
I wonder how we would have behaved if baby rabbits were made out of chocolate?