I was walking down the driveway when I saw this doe breastfeeding a foal.

I waved “good morning” to them and then by the garbage can there was a freshly minted rabbit.

That’s cute. Very Bambi vibes all around. But down the road, aw my gawd, a baby fox!

It’s mama was nowhere in sight, so I had to shoo it off the road, cause there are some really crazy drivers around here (okay, mostly me).

So then I go down to the river and it’s Duckville, USA.

I’m sweating like a hog, so I go back home and jump in the pool, but guess who made a nest up on the fan in the freaking cabana? Twins, eh! Mazel tov, bird.

It just got me thinking: among my 8 oldest/closest friends, there are four children all told (and it would’ve been three if one hadn’t had twins just like that bird). We either have one or, more likely, zero babies. Which I think is fine because most of us consume so much in jet fuel and food and electricity and watches (ok, maybe that’s just one of us) that leaving the planet to the baby foxes, deer, ducks and rabbits ain’t such a bad thing. Or is it? Come at me in the comments, people! But gently, please. My pupik hurts today.

Gary’s Journey Through Hell

All the animals around me are having babies.