A Little Life Well Lived. An inconceivable loss.

 

 

I don’t know how a small space like my apartment can feel empty with 4 free range rabbits and a 20 lb cat. It shouldn’t be possible. The only difference is the absence of a 3 and a half pound redheaded bunny. On the other hand the impossible pretty much sums up Blueberry. She lived her life on her own terms, and it was up to all the rest of us to adapt to her world. For those who don’t know her origin story and about the first year she was with me, it is chronicled here: Somebun who beat the odds

After her rough start she really became the perfect companion. Every time I walked in the door she would run to greet me and if I lay on the floor she would immediately come up to touch her nose to mine.  I remember times I would have to travel for work, and when I returned home after days or weeks, there would be an initial 5 minutes of pure joy from her that I was home, then she would proceed to punish me for the next two days by ignoring me, giving me the one-eye, and the bunny bum. We all knew when “mama” wasn’t happy.

 

She became so much happier and content when she bonded with Benji, the semi-blind snow white MiniLop that came from the same rescue as she did. She loved him so deeply.  Then again later when she bonded with Buster, the naughtiest miniature Dutchie-Lionhead in NATO. they formed a rare trio. She ruled us all with an iron paw.

 

There is a reason why I have included this painting of her instead of a photo. Everyone has already seen the pics of her wearing her bows, or her pink backpack, with one of her boys or even a pic of one of her many adventures out and about in her stroller. This was painted by my good friend Mara Wiltshire and sums up her personality so perfectly. She was queen of the house and the ultimate diva.

 

Blueberry was a famous bunny too. She touched people from all over the world and I received hundreds of emails and messages from more than 30 countries asking about her, or telling about how her story inspired someone to start fostering or to volunteer with their local rescue. She never knew it, but she helped save a simply uncountable number of bunnies. That’s a hell of a legacy for a little rabbit.

 

Over the last year she REALLY opened up. For years now I was the only human she really trusted and was either shy or wary around other people. In the last year though she accepted other humans as her friend. The first was Christie Taylor who sat on the floor to meet her and BB came running right up to her, placed her front paws on Christie’s knees and politely asked if she had a cookie for her. Every other person after that BB would greet in polite bunny fashion. The last person to meet her and be greeted by a nose touch was Josie O’Connor barely a month before she passed.

 

Then, she got sick. Over the years she and I battled E. Cuniculi outbreaks,  headtilt, Syphilis, and I don’t know how many stasis or gastric slowdown episodes….always in the middle of the night of course. This was another E.C. outbreak, this time affecting her hind end. She went down, and stayed down.

 

For a month I force-fed her several times a day, tempted her with various tidbits to try and get her to eat on her own, gave her painkillers, antibiotics, and the medicine to counter the E.C. parasites twice a day, slowly fed syringe upon syringe of water in to her mouth to keep her hydrated, and injected normal saline subcutaneously. I got up an hour earlier every morning to treat her, spent the first two hours when I got home from work treating her, and got up at 3am every night to give her more fluids.

 

Life became working, sleeping, and taking care of Blueberry. Cleaning her, tending to her bedsores. replacing pee pads, towels, and fleeces. Of course all my other critters received less attention from me because of this, but, they all seemed to understand. There were no tantrums or bad behaviour. I managed to arrest her weight loss, but by the time I did she was nothing but bones. She did start to fill out again and I managed to maintain a good level of hydration in her. She had good days and bad days. Throughout that month I would see her more engaged, and she would scooch in a circle using her front paws, then on other days I was not sure she would survive the night. Some days she would raise her head when she heard my voice, and some days she just couldn’t manage it.

 

In the last week she was with us, I knew she was not going to make it. Enough time had gone by that the medicines she was on should have started to make more of a difference, but it wasn’t happening. My goal then became keeping her comfortable and helping her fight as long as she still wanted to fight. I confided in a couple of other rabbit people that I was waiting for her to tell me she was done, and I would take her in and help her to the bridge.

 

Blueberry had other ideas though, as she always did. She had one more impossible thing to show us. One more example of true strength of character. For about a week she had been taking solid food again. If I put some parsley or dill in with her she would eat it. When I would get home from work it would be all gone. Last Tuesday though, October 17 2017, I came home from work and almost all the dill was still in her hospital pen. I saw she was laying immobile. I got down on the floor with her and she was breathing shallowly. She would not take of her medicine which she loved, even when I put a drop on her tongue.

 

She had had a stroke. Based on how much dill was still in her pen it must have been only a couple of hours after I left for work. It’s just not possible, but somehow she hung on to life all day long. I can only conclude she was waiting for me. I took off her bandages. I didn’t know if she would feel it, but I wanted her to be comfortable. I reheated her snuggle safe, and her heating pad puppy. After gently laying her on them and arranging her comfortably,  I lay down with her, my nose touching her nose and softly pet her head and ears. I said some things to her I needed to say, which do not need to be repeated here.

 

It wasn’t a long wait. It may have been 15 or 20 minutes and she just….slipped away, like stepping from one room to another. I lay with her for a few minutes more. Her boys got about an hour with her so that they would understand that she had passed, and wasn’t just missing. It’s very important for bonded bunnies to understand so that they can grieve properly and move on.

 

After they had their time with her, I cleaned her up and brushed her out. I put on her favourite bows, the yellow ones with the pink scrunchies, and I carefully wrapped her in the blue fleece that she liked to dig on.

 

Her boys are doing ok. Buster is bouncing back already, and Benji with Busters help seems to be starting to  turn the corner. For me, everything seems to remind me of her. I was changing the boys litter pan the other day and beside it was the plastic baby keys she used to love to toss. I was making dinner last night and when I went to get some spices I found a syringe that I hadn’t noticed when I put away all the pet medical supplies after she passed.

 

Tonight, I noticed for the first time in a long time my guitar on its stand beside the couch. I hadn’t touched it since before she got sick. I looked at it for a while then picked it up. Plugging in the cord, and turning on the amp I ran through some chords. It was horribly out of tune.  After a few minutes I got it sounding right again. What to play though, I was at a loss. The night Blueberry passed Gord Downie of the Tragically Hip also passed. He was probably the most beloved musician in all of Canada and spoke to our national soul. I had just started learning one of their songs shortly before she got sick though, so that was out. Then I thought about what kind of bunny she was, and what kind of life she lived. I thought about a song that I learned last year. It was the right one.

So, standing in my living room, holding my Fender Strat, I played though the Wallflowers arrangement of David Bowie’s Heroes. I can’t tell you if I played well or terribly, but it really doesn’t matter. I was playing for BB and for all the memories I have of her. I played for all the lives she touched, and I played for all the other Sudbuns that went before her. I played for her, I played for Cherry, I played for Trinky I played for all them that went too soon because of where they came from. I played for the joy she brought me and I played for the lessons I learned from her.

 

This is the song I played: Heroes

 

It was after the last note faded in the air that knew that I could finally sit down and write this and hope to do some of the small amount of honour that she deserves. I am not going to proof read this, or edit it, or correct any unwieldy language or een spelling errors. Blueberry never compromised, she never asked for a do-over. She was always certain and never looked back. So, this stands as written, a tribute to the best house rabbit the world has ever seen.

If you want to do something in her memory, foster an animal in need. Volunteer with or donate to your local rescue organization. There are a lot of Blueberries out there waiting to change lives.

 

Goodnight my little queen.

 

 

A special thank you to the people who helped her throughout her last month, you know who you are.

Bunny Bonding Blues – Micro Space Bonding.

 

 

Bunnies are extremely social little creatures. Your bunny can be very much attached to you and lead a quite rewarding and fulfilled life as a single bun in a household where he is integrated into the home as a member of the family. That said, bunnies prefer the company of another bunny. There are 24 hours in the day, and they are awake at times when we are asleep. Having another bunny friend means that they do not get lonely for all the hours you are not able to interact with them.

 

However, they are also territorial creatures, especially the females. This means that you can’t just adopt a second rabbit and put it with your first one. If you do, BAD THINGS will happen. It is likely that one rabbit will attack the other and very serious injuries can result costing you hundreds of dollars in vet bills. From the bunnies perspective they have an invader coming in to steal their territory, and they have to defend themselves and their home.

 

In order for this not to happen, you need to bond them together. This is a process where the bunnies are introduced to each other in controlled circumstances so they get to know each other. This process can be long, or it can be short, depending on the personalities of the bunnies involved, and the process used to bond them. Once they are bonded together though, much cuteness ensues including mutual grooming, playing games together, and lots of snuggles. It is nearly a deadly level of cute. When deciding on a potential mate for your rabbit most things you might think you have to consider are not actually factors. It doesn’t matter what breed the other bunny is, whether it has uppy ears or lop ears. Size and age are not factors either. Almost any bunny can be bonded to any other bunny. Gender however can make a difference. Although there are many exceptions, in general male/female bonds are the easiest to obtain, and female/female bonds the hardest. Male/male bonds are closer to male/female for success. As I said though, there are lots of bonded pairs out there that are indeed female/female. I am only speaking in generalities here.

 

I mentioned how long this takes. Sometimes a bond is effectively love at first sight. You put the rabbits together and within minutes they are all snuggled up and saying: “Where have you BEEN all my life??”.   Other times it can take weeks or months. One of the reasons for this is hierarchy. Bunnies live within a strict pecking order with one bun in charge, and all other bunnies being subservient. You can think of this as being somewhat (although not exactly) like dog packs, where one dog is alpha and clearly the leader. For bunnies to be happy and be able to coexist together they have to work out this pecking order. They need to figure out which one is the most dominant. Once they do, they are quite happy with their place in the order of the universe…it’s the not knowing that causes stress and sometimes aggression. In bunny society it seems to be the case quite often that it is the female bunny that is dominant with the boy being second banana. There are exceptions to this of course, but this seems to be the most common in my experience.

 

How they figure out who is top bun can take many forms and some of these cause a lot of stress for the human involved. There may be nipping, boxing, and humping. And yes…the females will hump males to establish dominance. Humping in this context isn’t sexual, it is a dominance display. It is quite often hard for the human involved to watch this and not intervene but it is a necessary part of bonding, they need to work out the power structure. One thing that cannot be allowed is for these dominance displays to end in an actual fight between the rabbits. If this happens they have to be separated immediately. What you are looking for here is for one bunny to say to the other bunny: Yup, you are in charge. How they do this is through grooming. You will likely notice that one or both bunnies will sit with their bum in the air, and their head down on the floor. This is called presenting, and it is the bunny saying that I am top bun, and I demand you groom me. In bunny society the one that licks first is subservient and the one that receives the licks is dominant. The dominant bunny will also groom the other, but only after the pecking order has been established. This as you can imagine leads to many stand-offs during bonding as one bunny says LICK ME and the other says NO YOU LICK ME! No YOU! NO YOU! NO YOU!!! Etc etc.

 

The processes and techniques that you can use to bond your bunnies are many and varied. My own experience with bonding bunnies has been mixed. Remember I said that a large part of bonding success is determined by the personalities of the bunnies involved. Most of my rabbits have been quite damaged emotionally from the circumstances they come from, primarily hoarder situations, and that has impacted their ability to not only trust people, but other rabbits.

 

My first successful bond was between Blueberry and Benji. This took more than year, approximately 14 months. It also involved an emergency trip to the vet after a fight where Benji got injured by BB and his ear was bleeding. After so long with daily dates between them using all the usual bonding techniques it finally happened. One day Benji turned his head slightly and gave Blueberry 4 very small licks on her forehead. She immediately jumped up and proceeded to groom him from nose to tail and back again. From that moment on they were inseparable, and within days they were peacefully and happily living together. The picture below is from that day the ice was finally broken and the bond formed after 14 months of dating.

Benji grooms Blueberry with 4 tiny licks. 

 

Blueberry grooming Benji back.

First bonded snuggles together (Benji is soaked from the grooming and has had his hair spiked)!

 

After that experience it was time to step up efforts with Miss Moo and Nelson. They had also been going through the process for almost a year. Daily pen swapping, dates, and for all that there was zero progress. It was time for me to try something new and different. There are many blogs, articles, and websites that talk about traditional bonding. They speak of things like tub and basket dates, scent mingling, stress dates using washing machines or car rides, and duration for the dates in various phases of dating. All that is beyond the scope of this article and there are many websites blogs and articles where you can receive all this information.

 

What I would like to describe today is a new technique I decided to try with Nelson and Miss Moo. I thought of all the things we want to happen during bonding, and all the things that we want to avoid during bonding. It occurred to me that severely restricting their space might be a big part of the answer. I looked online at the various setups that people around the world use, including breeders. I then thought of what I had handy in the house and got to work. My idea was to make them a new space that was so small they would not be able to fight. It would be stressful enough to aid in bonding, but not so stressful as to be harmful to the bunnies. It would be separate and secure enough but also accessible enough that I could get to them quickly if anything were to happen.

 

I settled on a pen design that was extremely small, only 2 ft x 2 ft. This is the size of a single piece of puzzle flooring, which is exactly what I used as a floor. The pen itself was simply a regular 24″ xpen, but folded around itself so that it was only 1 panel on each side. Inside I tried both corner and rectangular litter pans and decided to go with an oversized rectangular one which was just the large sized disposable aluminium roasting pan available at any dollar store. I can hear many of my fellow bunny guardians crying out right now about how this space is too small, and is essentially rabbit cruelty. Let me say right off that you are all correct. If this was meant as permanent housing, (and we all know that in some places like breeder setups it is), it would be without question cruel treatment. What this is however is a short term housing method to obtain a single result, bonding your bunnies. This is what the micro-pen looks like all set up without buns. This particular version shows with a corner pan.

 

I put Nelson and Miss Moo inside this micro-pen. They were not happy. Miss Moo sat on the matt all hunched over, clearly upset. Nelson sat in the litter box all hunched over, clearly upset. This extremely small space forced them to be in very close proximity and also met the goal of preventing fighting by not giving them enough space to attack. My initial idea was not to make it a 2 minute or 3 minute date, but to keep them together as long as there was no violence. An hour went by, then two hours. Occasionally they would switch positions with Moo in the litter box and Nelson on the mat. It went into evening and I fed them. They ate together out of the same bowl with no aggression. This also forced them into physical contact with the side benefit of that mingling their scents. One thing I did not do was interact with them. This is one mistake I think a lot people make when trying to bond their bunnies. This time is about and for them. When we interject ourselves they focus on us and not on each other.  I stayed either right beside the pen, or in eyesight of it just in case I had to intervene. At my bedtime, I put them both back in to their own pens for overnight.

 

The next day I put them back together in the micro-pen, and there were no issues. I decided to keep them together overnight, but to sleep beside the pen just in case. That second day they decided to sit together. The third day together they were eating together. By the 4^th day they were snuggling, then this happened.

 

 

Nelson groomed Miss Moo and she reciprocated and groomed him back. I decided to double the size of the bonding pen to give them more room, and they stayed snuggled together, albeit with more room to stretch out. This was easily accomplished by adding one more puzzle piece, and more panels of the 24″ xpen.

 

While all this was going on I was rebuilding a new common area for them to live together. This included new litter boxes, toys, and housing so these would start off scent neutral for them. It worked. Miss Moo and Nelson became inseparable! After nearly a year of little progress This micro space technique had bonded them in less than a week. I was thrilled.

 

Miss Moo and Nelson in their new digs, a happily bonded new couple. 

 

Now to today. I took in another bunny recently, a young Dutchie named Buster.

Hi everyone! I’m Buster!

My plan was to bond him to Blueberry and Benji into a trio. As most experienced bunny guardians know a trio is a very hard bond to obtain and for many people who try it just isn’t successful. I decided to give my micro space technique a try and see how it turned out. Learning from the last time my plan was to never separate them at all, but to put them in the pen, and there they would stay until they bonded or it failed. I made a small change to the initial pen layout as well using a smaller corner litter pan as the space would have to fit three bunnies instead of two. I put them in the micro pen at 11:30 am Friday morning. It started the way you would expect with bunny body language showing stress and displeasure at having this interloper in their space. However, by the end of that first day there was grooming and snuggles. On the very first day!!

Buster first grooms Blueberry acknowledging that she is senior bunny. 

 

Buster then grooms Benji accepting him as senior to himself as well. 

As part of the process they went through establishing boundaries and the pecking order, Buster at one point was not being respectful enough to Blueberry. His youthful exuberance got the better of him and he nipped BB. The micro-pen however prevented the usual fight which was likely to ensue. The micro space also seems to discourage humping. Blueberry instead simply went over him and pinned him until he submitted. I watched all this happening with quite a bit of marvel. It was a very innocuous way for her to show him her dominance, and he got the message very quickly and relaxed to show his submission.

Blueberry showing Buster who is top bun.

On the second day Benji started grooming Buster back, and even Blueberry was leaning in to him during snuggles.

Benji grooms Buster!

I doubled the size of the pen late on that second day as well, seeing as things were going so well. On the third day there was every combination of affection between the new 3 way bunny family.

 

On the fourth day I moved them back in to a newly rearranged bedroom now completely bonded.

I have several friends who have also tried this method with a very high success rates including one friend who is in the middle of a 4 way bond using a micro-pen. I do not suggest that this is a magic bullet that will work for all bunny bonding 100% of the time, but I think it is a powerful tool in our tool kit that can remove a lot of the stress from bunny bonding for both the rabbits and humans involved. It is extremely easy to set up with materials that most of us already have on hand for our buns. Results speak for themselves in that I have now used it twice, and it has worked both times bonding the bunnies involved in less than a week with no violence or injuries. I hope it works for you too!

Don’t buy a bunny for Easter………………Bunnies are A**holes!

 

Last year approaching Easter I told you all about my very first
bunny Blueberry. The point of that was not only to tell you all about
her struggle towards recovery, but to illustrate that rabbits should
never be given as Easter or Christmas presents. They are an extremely
complex and social animal that are a decade long commitment and
require care that dogs and cats do not. They are not suitable for
young children, they are not starter pets, they are not low
maintenance, and they should not be kept in cages. Please do not buy
a rabbit as a present for special occasions. It will not end well for
you, and this leads to thousands and thousands of rabbits being
abandoned or euthanized after every Easter holiday.

This year I am going to explore rabbit personality for you.

Bunnies are prey animals. Even though the varieties that we have in
our homes have been domesticated for centuries, they still retain
instincts that make them afraid of being eaten. This colours so much
of their behaviour. It makes what a rabbit is thinking very hard to
decipher. Even when your bunny is in pain and suffering, there are
many people who cannot tell because they hide it so well. It’s the
sick or hurt bunny that gets eaten first in the forest.

Bunnies are extremely selfish, it is ALL about them. You think your
cat is a total hedonist who is self-centred? Bunnies are off the
chart when it comes to this. A rabbit will actually go around your
house claiming ownership of your belongings for himself. It does this
by the use of a scent gland which is under his chin. It will merrily
go around rubbing its chin on any object that it fancies, claiming it
for himself. Mine….mine…mine…oh! this is mine…mine too, mine,
etc etc. This territorialism manifests in other ways as well. You
like laying on your sofa? That means it smells like you. If your bunny
also likes to sit on your couch, it is very likely that he will claim
partial ownership by peeing on the spot he decides he likes, so it
smells like him. Couch is yours…but THIS spot is MINE! Mine mine
mine. This is one of the reasons why the all over description of
rabbit personality is: Bunnies are assholes.

A typical house or apartment these days is a bunny paradise for
things to destroy. It doesn’t matter how many toys you buy your
bunny, how many alternatives you provide he will gravitate to exactly
the things you don’t want him to. What this means is ANY cord left
where a rabbit can get at it WILL be bitten in half. Mouse cords,
cable tv cables, power cords, all are fair game for bunny. If you
think your cables are safe because there is only 3 inches behind your
tv stand forget it…bunny will find a way to get back there and snip
them in half. Supervising doesn’t help. I was once wearing a headset
and watching my rabbit closely, but it hopped by quickly, and on the
fly just turned her head and snip….the cord was neatly severed in
half. My bunny loped away with a little hop to show me how pleased
she was with herself.

Rabbits also seem to love chewing on baseboards. You can have a dozen wooden toys for them, but baseboards being off-limits seem to just attract them more. You can buy bitter spray, put soap on them, or other deterrents but bunny will just think you are seasoning this most delicious of snacks for them. Any furniture you have with wood components will also get chewed. If you like books get used to them having no corners. They KNOW they are not allowed to do these things, and it is clear from their expressions and reactions to getting caught that it just makes it more desirable for them. They know it, and they do it anyways because it pleases them. Bunnies are assholes.

Rabbits are the moodiest of any pets you can have in your home, and
they are not afraid of showing this to you. They throw tantrums. If a
bunny does not get her own way be prepared for outbursts that would
do any human two-year old proud. She will pick up her toys and toss
them in anger, tip over water bowls, or toss food dishes at you. It
is also common for an angry rabbit to dig out its litter box making a
huge mess for you to clean up, and it is clearly being done on
purpose. Some rabbits throwing a tantrum will also pick up their food
dish and start banging it on the floor or anything handy to make a
racket to tell you they are upset. Bunny guardians are also well used
to being glared at with the bunny stare of death.

When they are seriously annoyed with you, they may grunt at you, or give you a thumping. This is when they lift both back feet and slam them down while glaring at you. It makes a loud thumping noise: *thump*…*thump thump*. Consider this as a string of rabbit profanity that they are unleashing on you. Rabbits can also give you the silent treatment to tell you that they are not happy with you. One way is you may be talking to your bunny and they look at you pointedly to make sure they have your attention then turn around and show you their backside. We call it getting the bunny bum. It is your rabbit saying: I AM NOT TALKING TO YOU, SO THERE! They may also make sure you are paying attention to them, then turn slightly away from you and start cleaning themselves. This is your bunny saying to you:  “You just are not important enough for me to pay attention to, take THAT”. As you can see….bunnies are assholes.

Many people when they think of pet bunny rabbits think that they
will be a soft and cuddly pet. There is nothing that could be further
from the truth. The overwhelming number of bunnies HATE being picked up, and want to be 4 on the floor at all times. This comes from the fact that they are prey animals. Throughout all of evolution, if a rabbit was picked up it was generally by the jaws of something that was about it eat it. Some will kick and claw at you to be let down.
If they do not try to fight you, many become catatonic with fear,
frozen into immobility. From their perspective they are literally
fighting for their lives. They are also extremely fragile compared to
a dog or a cat and a bunny that is picked up incorrectly, or fights
when picked up is at gave danger of having its back broken.

Bunnies just can’t be kept in a small cage. Rabbits are both highly
social animals and extremely active at certain times of the day. A
bunny that is kept in a small cage by itself and only taken out for
small periods become a bunny with a lot of behavioural problems. It
is the same as a person being kept in solitary confinement for years
and years without the possibility of parole. It becomes an animal
without hope, and sometimes won’t even come out of the cage if the
door is left open. Such a bunny when taken out may just sit there
staring into nothing. It may run away trying to escape its prison and
hide from you, and can be MUCH more destructive than even regular
bunnies are. The lack of stimulation drives them to get some
stimulation however it can, generally at the expense of your
baseboards, books, cords, and furniture. They can also become what is called cage aggressive where they lunge and bite at people.

So. Here we have a pet that is difficult to get along with, needs
specialized and expensive vet care, require a specialized multi-item
diet, destroys things in your home, and you can’t even pick it up
and give it a snuggle. Bunnies are clearly assholes. Why on earth
then would anyone want one in their house, or in the case of myself 4
of the demanding and ungrateful little creatures? These are NOT the
droids you are looking for…move along. Add to this that you will
have this menace in your home for the next decade, it is clear why it
is nothing but a bad, bad idea to buy one as an Easter present. It
will not end well for you, your child or the bunny. Instead buy them
a chocolate bunny, a stuffed bunny, or make a donation to your local
shelter.

It’s not all bad news. Rabbits can be and are one of the most
rewarding companion animals that you could ever share your life with.
All the of the reasons I listed above why bunnies are assholes and
why you should NOT get a rabbit, all have corollaries.

Dogs and cats have been programmed by evolution to live with and
actively like humans. Bunnies although domesticated as well have not
reached that same stage. When you first get a rabbit it doesn’t trust
you, and it doesn’t love you. You have to earn the bunnies trust, and
only after THAT can you start building a relationship with one.

You earn the bunnies trust by giving it space and spending a LOT of
time laying on the floor with them. You have to respect their rules
and boundaries. This is time spent not trying to touch them or pet
them but rather just sharing the space with them and showing that you are not a threat. It can take days, or weeks, or even months. If you invest that time though, a bunny will accept you and start to interact with you. Over time and with a lot of work this relationship can grow and your bunny will actually bond with you. After this happens you will see the absolutely HUGE personality that they have.

What is best for bunny and best for the bunnies human family is for
the rabbit to be free range in the house, or semi free range. This
means that the rabbit just lives openly in your home. Having plenty
to room to run and jump and play you get a happy and secure and
content rabbit. When this happens you get to see them in all their
rabbitude. As your bunny opens up and becomes more happy you will
even get to see the famous binky. A binky is when a rabbit is so
happy it just explodes into a twisting jump through the air that is a
marvel to see. Semi Free range is when your bunny gets run of the
house when you are home, but in order to protect your baseboards or
furniture they stay in a pen while you are out of the house or at
work. A pen with a min dimension of 4′ x 4′ is perfectly fine for the
bunny during these times. It is enough room for them to hop around,
and stretch out and flop when they want to take a nap. Being a bunny
is exhausting work.

Regardless of which method you use it is critical to bunny proof
your house. I mentioned that one of the reasons that bunnies are
assholes is that they destroy your house. The solution to this is
bunnyproofing. This means hiding all cables and cords where the
rabbit can’t get to them. It also means providing alternatives to
bunny to chew so they go after baseboards and furniture less. These
alternatives are toys and chews to let them express these instincts
in a non damaging manner. Despite all this though, a rabbit IS going
to do some damage in your environment. This is a fact of bunny
guardianship, and if you cannot accept this, then please do NOT get a
bunny.

Another way to make your bunny much more happy and integrated in to your family is to get them a friend. Bonding rabbits into a couple
can be difficult, but when they do bond it gives your bunny company
for all the hours you are not able to be there for them, and stops
them from being lonely. The added benefit to this is that bonded
bunnies cuddling together or grooming each other is an almost deadly
level of cute.

Bonding can also help minimise damage done in your house as they will play together and have less time for tasty baseboards.

The rewards of sharing your life with a properly socialized bunny
who is treated as part of your family and included instead of
segregated are many. Imagine being greeted at the door every day by a periscoping rabbit. Watching the daily Bunny 500, when they tear
through the house as fast as they can in a complicated circuit
involving as many obstacles as they can, running so fast as to be
almost a blur, until they are so exhausted they pitch over onto their
side in a flop is one of the most entertaining things you will ever
see…and you get to see it every day. Your bunny may also tell you
that it loves you, by something called the nose bop. If you are
playing with bunny, and it suddenly comes up and bops you with the
end of its nose, its saying: I like you! Watching a bunny play with
its toys is also highly entertaining. One of my rabbits LOVES
slinkies, and will spend an hour just stretching the slinky and
trying to get it to behave. The antics of a well socialized and happy
house rabbit have to be seen to be believed.

The excitement they show when they know that it is time for treats is
also extremely entertaining. For many, they can hear the sound of
their treat bag opening from across the house, and you will suddenly
have a bunny at your side periscoping and saying pleeeeeeaaaase?
before you can say carrot. Many people report that just opening the
fridge door will have their bunny show up at their side as the fridge
is the source of all things yummy and green. Bunnies are self-
propelled bellies, but this is actually one of their endearing
qualities.

In the end, if you want to get a bunny, and are prepared for the
expense, and the consequences go ahead. But please, adopt, do not
buy. Put in the WORK, and be responsible for the animals welfare
yourself. It does not teach responsibility to have a child care for
an animal (when they remember to), it just makes for a miserable
animal. If you decide that a rabbit is not for you after getting one,
contact a rescue. Abandoning it outside is not setting it “free”, it
is sentencing it to a harsh and painful death. Domestic rabbits just
do not have the skills to stay alive on their own. Contacting a
rescue to surrender an unwanted bunny, you will not be judged, they
are just about saving lives, and will be grateful that you are doing
the right thing. Also, it is best to wait until after Easter adopt.
There will be literally thousands and thousands of unwanted bunnies
flooding shelters a month from now, and new homes will be desperately
needed for them. You will be able to make a considered choice then,
and select the rabbit which will fit in to your family best. As for a
bunny for Easter….make yours chocolate.

 

Dancing With the Boogeyman

For several years I have been fighting a losing battle.

I was diagnosed as being diabetic close to 10 years ago after becoming so ill that I actually lost cognitive ability at work one day, and was answering different questions than the ones I was asked. It felt like I was losing my mind. I was also urinating every hour, and I had developed a dead spot on the bottom of one foot. I was very very sick before I broke down and saw a doctor, the loopy behaviour was the last straw that convinced me to go.

It is Type II diabetes so all that meant was that I had to start watching what I eat, and take some pills every day. No problem, I could do that. Of course, it was easier said than done. I would forget to take the pills, or I would still eat poorly.

Being a divorced man who sometimes works very long hours, and lives alone (albeit with 5 rabbits and a cat!), my eating regimen is sporadic at best. I too often skip meals, or have a meal far too late in the evening, because that is when I remember to eat, or have the energy to get up and make something. Weekends end up being more problematic, and many times I end up only actually eating once each weekend day.

This of course has an extremely negative impact on the diabetes. It has progressively gotten worse over the years. I started off taking 1 little pill with each meal, to a maximum of three pills a day. For the last couple of years I have been on the maximum dosage of pill based medication being 3 different types of medication and 4 pills a day, two of them being huge multivitamin sized things more suitable for a horse than a human. There is no where to go from where I am with the pills…there IS no higher dosage than what I am already taking.

There are two basic types of diabetes pills. One type helps your cells metabolize insulin, in effect use it more efficiently so that you can process sugars. The other type forces your pancreas to create more insulin. The problem with this type of medication is that it makes your pancreas work very hard, and like over-revving an engine for too long, it WILL burn out eventually. I have been on both types for the last several years.

Here is the interesting thing about diabetes medicines. They do not make you feel better per se. When you take them you notice nothing. You do not have more energy or “feel better”. When you FAIL to take them though, you start to feel very bad, very quickly. Over the years, this facet has served to remind me to take my medicine more often than forget it, but I still will find myself at a restaurant or at work with no pills, and eat anyway, knowing that in an hour or two I will have consequences.

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One thing I have been able to do to help my condition is keep up a level of physical activity. On weekends I like to go out on fairly long walks, usually with a couple of my bunnies in their stroller, and I love using my new kayak. The diabetes fights against this of course by trying to make me too tired and too low energy to do anything, but I get out and do it anyway. Experience as taught me that getting started is the hard part…once you are actually out and doing something, its ok. It’s just finding the energy and will to get started.

Throughout all this slow decline my overriding goal has been to avoid having to go on insulin. This was always the line in the sand for me. The very idea of having to take one or several injections a day is abhorrent at best. It also seemed to me to be an irrevocable turning point, where I would have to shoot up for the rest of my life, and there would be no going back.

This week when I went to see my doctor to have all my prescriptions renewed (there are *5* in total), he quite firmly told me I had crossed over the line. My sugars were still too high on a daily basis, my body was being damaged, and my life was being shortened. I like and trust my doctor. He is an odd duck for sure, and I would even go so far as to say he is weird. But, I trust him. This is in large part because he and I have a similar background. I was in the army as an infantier, and he was an air force doctor, who treated the infantry in Bosnia and other conflicts. We speak the same language, and both understand what very few can understand. I trust him.

He got up and went out, and came back with a preloaded insulin injector. He showed me how to put the needle on, how to dial in the dosage, and where to inject it. Then, came the inevitable moment..I had to stab myself and do it.

It wasn’t at ALL like I had been thinking all these years. It is not like a needle that is used when you have blood drawn, and it is certainly not like the auto-injectors we had to use in the army (designed to be idiot proof and pierce through several layers of clothing) which were extremely painful to use. The needle itself is so small I literally barely felt it going in, and was not actually painful at all. If anyone else who is diabetic is reading this, it causes less pain than the lance you use to test your blood several times a day. There is still some oogyness about the process as you are pressing the insulin in to your body, but after a couple of days that goes away.

It really is not to be feared at all.

I have been taking my injections for a few days now, and my overall health has improved, even in just that short amount of time. I will still work hard to not have to begin taking MORE insulin, but for now, this is ok. I can live with this. Most importantly…I feel better.

For all the type II diabetics out there, insulin is not the boogeyman we all think it is. If your doc recommends it, go for it.

Sometimes……….Life Doesn’t Suck

I am not a Pollyanna.  If you tell me two possibilities  I will inevitably tell you the probable outcome is the one with the most negative ramifications. This is because way more bad things happen to me than good things. Some of them have been pretty damned bad.

This natural pessimism has always stood me in pretty good stead. I never plan for the best, I plan for the worst. In the army that meant I made battle plans based on things screwing up, not on what I hoped would happen. In business it means that I have plan B, plan C, plan D, and sometimes plan E ready to go, in order to cover any eventuality  I do not assume things will work out for the best…and that has brought me some success in all my endeavours.

In the past few weeks, my mother has passed away after a long and debilitating illness. I have had a business trip to the far east cancelled on me to cut costs. At work I have taken on another account that is to put it politely, in a non-optimal state, or to put it honestly, is a total sh*t storm. About a week ago, I dislocated (and then immediately relocated) an ankle. And finally my lovely foster bunny Rudy had her face bitten and wounded by my Blueberry bunny, in a scenario that was as unpredictable as it was unlikely. It’s been a hell of a few weeks. This is all par for the course really…more bad things happen to me than good things.

It was with all that in mind that I was determined to finally try out my kayak this weekend. I had bought it in the middle of winter, in order to get the best possible price. I do not have a lot of money, so whenever I look to get anything, I have to do a lot of strategizing and planning to make it happen. I bought it off-season in December, and arranged to have it delivered in January. I further was able to save more money by buying a previously used one from the factory, with full 3 year warranty  at a substantial mark down. I did pretty good on it. The package came with a basic seat, and a 4 piece paddle.

So, its been sitting in my closet for the last 4 or 5 months, waiting for the weather to become mild enough for me to actually be able to use it. With everything that has happened the past two weeks, I was committed to this weekend being the time that I finally would be able to try it out.

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I have always loved boats, and the water. When I was a kid my life revolved around summers at the cottage, and my dads big heavy cedar boat. I spent hundreds if not thousands of hours on that boat. In later years, memories that I consider highlights of my life also revolve around boats and the water. I remember going down the Mattawa river in an army assault boat. Canoeing in the north, in an area called the Tri-Towns. I remember my joy at practicing amphibious operations off of a Royal Canadian Navy destroyer. I remember being on an outrigger in the South China sea, dolphins jumping the outriggers, and flying fish sailing through the air.
I remember deep-sea fishing in the Caribbean  I remember being on a ferry in Hong Kong Harbour, with sounds and smells I had never experienced before. Some of my happiest memories involve the water, and boats in particular. With all that said, I have never owned a boat, canoe, or even a floatie board of my own. Circumstances just never allowed for it….until now.

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This boat is a marvel of modern engineering. Rather than being your standard injection molded hard plastic shelled kayak, this is a polykrylar inflatable kayak. When inflated it has a semi rigid structure, and is capable of holding 3 people, or 650 pounds (295 kg) of cargo. It is 11 ft (3.3 meters) long. Deflated, it fits into my old army duffel bag, and is about 30 lbs. Do not think this is toy boat. It is rated for class two white water rapids, and can be used on large bodies of water as well. It is made of the same material as a zodiac boat.

Today was the day! I decided to finally use it, no matter what. It was not the expected 22 degrees, it was only about 17 out, but regardless, I was committed! I packed up everything into a cart so I wouldn’t have to carry it, and headed out.

On the way to the beach, my IPod touch packed up. I did not know if it was completely dead, or if it could be recovered. I didn’t let that dampen my enthusiasm though. I was going to get on the water today no matter what! I have lived in the Niagara Falls / St Catharines area for over three years now. In all that time I have not gone once to the beach, or checked out the falls, or any of the attractions surrounding that. I have not made the trek to Niagara-on-the-Lake, or even any of the wineries. I have worked, gone north to check on my house a few times, gone north some other times to visit my mother in the old age home she was in, and that is pretty much it. This was my very first time seeing Port Dalhousie, and the amazing harbour and marina there.

I laid out all the parts of the kayak, in preparation for inflating it.

It took less than 15 minutes to get it completely inflated, using only a foot pump, assemble the paddle, and pack up everything and load it in the kayak.

A family which had watched me curiously through this entire process graciously agreed to take my picture with the boat.

I put it in the water, and very carefully went to get in to it. And……fell arse over tea kettle RIGHT into an ice cold Lake Ontario. I have not mentioned yet that in my various pockets were my dead Ipod, my Blackberry, my Kobo E-reader, my Olympus digital camera, my android Tablet. and of course my wallet.

Remember how I always plan for the worst, because I EXPECT bad things to happen? ALL the devices, and my wallet had all been placed inside ziploc sammich bags, which in turn were placed inside small and medium sized sliding lock freezer bags before I had even left the house. Everything was fine! Pessimism pays off again.

You may think that such an embarrassing thing happening with so many people looking on curiously would have made me angry or embarrassed. Knowing all my stuff was safe, because i KNEW something would happen, made me react with pure childlike joy.  Of *COURSE* I fell in the lake trying to get in the kayak the first time….it was too perfect for that NOT to happen. 🙂 I laughed out loud, like a child laughs…from the belly. It seemed the most funnily (funnily??) perfect thing ever.

The mother of the family who had taken the picture asked if I wanted to her to hold it still so I could get in, but between chortles and snorts I told her that No, thank you…now that I was soaked, I could stop trying to be careful and just climb in. I did, without any further incident and headed out in to the lake. The sun was shining today, and there was a perfect blue sky. There was a bit of a cool wind, which seemed a little cold on my wet clothes, and raised a bit of a chop on the lake.

It took about 15 minutes to really get the hang of handling the boat, and to get a good rhythm with the double paddle. I also discovered that the basic seat will have to be replaced with the deluxe seat which provides more back and lumbar support. That aside though, I had a wonderful time!

I paddled quite far out in to the lake, against the wind. I paddled over to the breakwater for the marina, and then out past that into the open lake. It was really a shame that my Ipod was non-functional, because the song for the sound track of my life, at that particular moment was on my playlist. It was: U2 – Beautiful Day. That song just perfectly sums up my mood at that moment. As that song says:

It’s a beautiful day
Don’t let it get away

You’re on the road
But you’ve got no destination

I was in a moment, paddling deeper into the Great Lakes where all the minutiae of daily life just didn’t matter. I could feel my muscles protest from a winter of non-use. I knew that later in the day I would ache, and that tomorrow I would hurt. I also knew though that its a good hurt. The hurt that comes from DOING something you love, the kind of hurt that when you get a twinge, it makes you smile. It was a beautiful day.

Too soon a couple of hours had passed, and it was time to go back to the beach. I pulled the kayak out of the water and pulled the drain plugs to let the water drain out, and for it to dry off before deflating it and putting it back in the duffel. While waiting, the sound track of my life was still playing in my head, and I had a perfect lunch of nothing but water and a few small pieces of Baklava I had purchased on the way to the beach. It was a feast.

Less than an hour later I was home, changed into dry clothes, and enjoying a nice hot cup of coffee, and yes, I put on that U2 song. I smiled contently as I listened and sipped.

Modern life in large measure often sucks. We work too hard, and worry about money and bills, and on our precious off time we tend to rush about even more than at work. Not today though. Today I carpe’d that diem. Today, for a little while, life did not suck.

It was a beautiful day.

For your listening pleasure: U2  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3V8nu6e8eFY

The heart is a bloom
Shoots up through the stony ground
There’s no room
No space to rent in this town

You’re out of luck
And the reason that you had to care
The traffic is stuck
And you’re not moving anywhere

You thought you’d found a friend
To take you out of this place
Someone you could lend a hand
In return for grace

It’s a beautiful day
Sky falls, you feel like
It’s a beautiful day
Don’t let it get away

You’re on the road
But you’ve got no destination
You’re in the mud
In the maze of her imagination

You love this town
Even if that doesn’t ring true
You’ve been all over
And it’s been all over you

It’s a beautiful day
Don’t let it get away
It’s a beautiful day

Touch me
Take me to that other place
Teach me
I know I’m not a hopeless case

See the world in green and blue
See China right in front of you
See the canyons broken by cloud
See the tuna fleets clearing the sea out
See the Bedouin fires at night
See the oil fields at first light
And see the bird with a leaf in her mouth
After the flood all the colors came out

It was a beautiful day
Don’t let it get away
Beautiful day

Touch me
Take me to that other place
Reach me
I know I’m not a hopeless case

What you don’t have you don’t need it now
What you don’t know you can feel it somehow
What you don’t have you don’t need it now
Don’t need it now
Was a beautiful day

Somebun who beat the odds…

Every Easter thousands of rabbits die. This is because so many people will buy small children rabbits for Easter, mistakenly thinking that bunnies make excellent trouble free starter pets, that require little maintenance  When this turns out not to be the case, these rabbits are given away, turned in to over crowded shelters where they will likely be euthanized  or just released outside to die.

This Easter  I would like you to read about MY first bunny, Blueberry. Unlike so many other bunnies out there, she has beaten the odds. Here is Blueberry’s story:

Sometimes you have an animal companion that changes your life. You may have had one of these yourself. That special animal that you connect with on such a deep level that if it were a human, the only way you could describe them is as a soul mate. I have one of these.  I think of her as my Heart Bunny.

Her name is Blueberry, and today she is a spoiled, demanding, self assured diva of a rabbit.

She wasn’t always that way though.Blueberry was born into a nightmare. There were hundreds rabbits in that house. They were not well cared for and pampered family companion animals, they were the victims of a hoarder.

The environment she grew up in was one where they did not receive the proper food, and certainly not enough food for all of  them. I picture a bag of pellet food sliced open and just dumped out onto the floor. Then, picture hundreds of insanely hungry bunnies, with sharp teeth, and with untrimmed sharp claws having to fight each other in order to eat. That is how she had to stay alive. Fighting her siblings and other rabbits, just to eat,  just to stay alive.

Picture all of these rabbits being sick with respiratory illnesses, suffering from urine scald, having infected wounds from having to fight each other. And picture dozens, and hundreds of rabbits dying due to these conditions. Blueberry lived through horror, but it wasn’t a movie, it was real life. She managed to stay alive though. She beat the odds.

One day there was a raid, and all 400 rabbits that were still alive were rescued. (Yes….there were 400 rabbits in one house) For half of them though, it was just too late. They were too damaged, and too sick. The only humane thing to do was to end their suffering. Blueberry survived this culling, and was taken in by Rabbit Rescue Inc. She sure beat the odds.

Blueberry was checked by a vet, and went home with her new Foster mom. It was not an auspicious beginning. Within the first week, she had bitten her foster mom, and refused to come out of her cage. It wasn’t that she was aggressive, it was that she was just so scared, and traumatized, that it was her only way of being. It was all that she knew! Another lady took her home to foster, Lynn. Lynn was amazingly patient with her, and helped Blueberry on her long road to healing. BB spent the first two weeks hiding in her cage, refusing to come out, even with the top removed from the cage. Finally, Lynn forced the issue. Blueberry did not like it, but she began to see that outside of her cage was not dangerous. Over time, she began to slowly open up to Lynn.

There were setbacks. Once Lynn touched her with a piece of hay while she was filling her manger. This scared BB so much she ran away to hide. She also had an accident while jumping to try and reach a plant. The plant had been moved, so the platter it had been resting on was no longer anchored and flipped over on her…..it scared her so badly she would not jump anymore, at all.

I did not learn this until much later, but she used the same techniques that later on I used as well. Lynn would sit in her pen with her for hours, just being with her. She tempted her with treats and bits of food, especially greens, to slowly build that trust. She even had her husband and nephew do this as well, so that BB would get used to other people. When BB first arrived at Lynn’s house, she would pee everywhere. Lynn taught her what a litter box was, and how to use it, and for the first time in her life, Blueberry did not have to live in her own filth.

Blueberry ignored toys, because she just didn’t know what they were for, but would attack a paper roll filled with hay. She also loved to “find” hay purposely left in corners of the room. Maybe it made her feel clever. In short, she started to come alive.

And then, she came home with me. I had wanted a rabbit for many years. I did a lot of research on rabbit care, and really thought I knew what I was getting myself in to. I picked Blueberry to adopt based partially on her looks (I am a sucker for a pretty redhead), and partially on her bio. When I went to see her, it really only took one look at her to know that she was going to be my bunny. I expected a curious, affectionate, comical bunny rabbit, just like the ones I had seen on YouTube, or the ones that lived with people I knew. I didn’t get that at all.

When I brought her home, she immediately reverted back to the total fear state she had been in the day she was rescued. This was somewhat to be expected, because it was a big change for her after several months with her foster mom. Add to that, I smelled male, just like the hoarder who had traumatized her so badly. It did not begin well.

Blueberry would not approach me, or even be out in the open if I was in the room. She hid under my bed, and wouldn’t come out for anything. As the days when on, the situation did not change or improve.  Although her bio told about her background, I asked for more detail, and Rabbit Rescue told me more about the horrible horrible situation she came from.

I know a lot of people would not have been interested in having such a damaged and emotionally crippled animal especially as their very first bunny. Frankly, I wasn’t too thrilled with it either. I couldn’t return her though. The idea of discarding her, just because she was not the bunny I expected would mean that I was not any better than the man who made her like she was in the first place. I might never get through to her, but I had to try.

The first thing I did, was disassemble my bed so that she could no longer hide under there. I put the box spring right on the floor. I also provided her with an area in her condo which she could hide in when she got too scared, and also a cardboard box with a hole cut at either end that she could go to hide.

When this new set up was done, I lay down on the floor to have a conversation with her. She was in her cardboard hidey box, and I could only see her little nose deep in the shadowy darkness inside the box. I made a deal with her. I told her that I would never hurt her, and I would never starve her, and that I wouldn’t push her faster than she could go. I told her that her part of the deal was to try. I said I knew it would be hard for her, and that she would often want to run back to the safety of her box, and that that was ok. I told her that her cardboard box was HERS, and I would never bother her when she was in her box. (I don’t think she believed me) I also told her that I would not give up on her. Ever.

Next came several months of painfully slow progress. Every night when I came home from work, I would lay on the floor of the bedroom. I wouldn’t try to approach Blueberry hiding in her box, I just lay on the floor reading a book, or watching a show on my tablet, or just having a nap. For weeks I tempted her with treats. I had started this back when she was under the bed. I would put the treat at the edge of the bed. At first she would wait until I was out of the room to retrieve it, but then would creep slowly, keeping an eye on me the whole time…snatch it, and run back under the bed to nom it.

As the weeks went on, I put the treat closer and closer to me, as she got more used to me, and started to understand that I would not hurt her if she came within my reach. We broke a barrier together when I got her to take food directly from my hand. It was suggested to me by a friend to “be the guy with cilantro”. It worked. She wanted the the yummy stuff so badly that she took a risk. With fits and starts she slowly edged closer to me, stopping and sniffing for danger, and finally strettttttching out her neck to delicately grab the stalk while still staying as far away as possible. Every day after that, I hand fed her her supper, one piece of lettuce or cilantro or parsley at a time. More weeks went by. She got comfortable enough to sit on her big fluffy back feet and eat the pieces in front of me, instead of running off with them to eat them in her box.

More weeks passed. One evening I was laying on the floor, pseudo napping. I felt a funny little tickle on my back, where my shirt had pulled up. It was a little Blueberry nose and whiskers sniffing me. I did not react, and she started to sniff me all over. She wasn’t accepting me yet, but she felt that she was safe enough to at least investigate me.

Months had passed by this time, and we had made a lot of progress together. I think she knew by this time that we were a team, working through it together. I still could not pet her though, touching her was off the table. If I tried, she would run away and hide in her box until I left the room. More months past, and we got to the point where I could take 1 fingertip, and gently brush down her flank. More than that though, and it was into the box.

Then came…”The Incident”. For safety sake, I had to be able to pick her up. If there were a fire, or she had a medical emergency, I had to be able to pick her up and put her in a carrier. I worked up to it slowly, and one Saturday morning gently put a hand on either side of her. I did not try to pick her up, I was just touching her. What happened though, was she screamed. If you have never heard a rabbit scream, you are a very very lucky person. A rabbit scream sounds like a piglet being tortured. It is unnerving, and sends shivers up and down your spine. I think I may have jumped higher than she did. She scared the pants off me with that scream, and scared herself even worse.

It was a pretty low point for me. I despaired that I ever would get through to her. That very same evening though, something miraculous happened. I was sitting on the floor in the living room, watching a movie on tv. I had left the gate open to the bedroom. I did not think she would come out, considering what had happened earlier. Suddenly though I felt a bonk bonk bonk on my back. It was Blueberry. She had crept up behind me, and gave me a soft series of nose-bonks. It was her way of apologizing for over reacting that morning. She understood that her reaction to being touched was out of all proportion to what had happened. More importantly though, it was the first time she ever initiated contact with me.

It was a turning point for us. It still took yet more months to get there, but after that day, there was a beginning trust there with her. She knew from that moment on, that I was not going to hurt her, and that I was a friend. There were other challenges to face together, and other hills to climb.

I taught her how to jump again by installing a ramp on to my bed to let her come up and down from the bed, so she could get used to heights again. As she got more comfortable, she would only use the ramp to run up, but would jump down. Then later, she would ignore the ramp and just jump up whenever she wanted to come see me.

A year after she came to live with me, I went on some new medication, which caused severe nightmares as a side effect. Blueberry knew something was wrong. In one of the bravest little acts I have ever seen,she did NOT run to hide from whatever noises or thrashing I was making, instead she jumped up on the bed, and did everything she could to wake me up. It worked. I woke up, and found her up on her back legs, tucked unto my shoulder. Her front paws were scrabbling on my bare shoulder, scratching me, and her little head was furiously bonking me. I will never know what she was thinking, but she had no thought of her own safety, she just knew she needed to help me, by waking me up. I pet her and soothed her and told her I was alright now. She stayed right there until I fell asleep again, tucked into my shoulder. She wanted HER person to be safe…in her little mind, she was protecting me.

Today she is sassy, independent, demanding of affection and attention, and a complete diva. She is so full of confidence that she is dominant bunny with her boyfriend Benji, who was also rescued from the same hoarder. She is also affectionate with me. When I go in the room now, she immediately runs up and stands on her back legs. She wants me to pet her, and gives me affection right back. When I pick her up, she melts into my chest, because she has complete faith that I will not drop her, and she can relax and enjoy the cuddle.

As a group, the bunnies rescued from this one rescue, collectively known as the Sudbun’s (The rescue was officiated by the Sudbury Ontario SPCA), have had a higher than normal mortality rate. In the two years since the rescue a number of them have passed away, far too young, from conditions that should not have been fatal. This is likely because of the extremely poor nutrition they had as kits. It stunted their development, and their immune and digestive systems did not completely develop properly as a result. They have all been exposed to deadly rabbit diseases and are likely all carriers.

What this means is that Blueberry will likely not live to the normal rabbit age of 10 or 12 or more years old. Each day with her is therefor a gift. With every day that I wake up, and this scruffy little redhead greets me, expecting a head rub and a treat before I leave the room, she beats the odds.

She lived in nothing but terror and fear and darkness, but every day now she loves life, and lets everyone around her know it. Every day, she beats the odds. Whatever time I do have with her, I cherish. She is my little miracle, my heart bunny. Man, it has taken a long time to get here.

Happy Easter everyone.

There are still Sudbuns who have not found their forever
homes. For information on these and many other currently
available rabbits for adoption, please follow the link
below.

http://rabbitrescue.ca/adoption/rabbits/

Never Judge a Book by its Tartan Plaid Colours

First of all I am going to apologize to all my old army buddies that subscribe to or read my blog. You have heard the story below more times than you can count, and yes, you will have to suffer through it one more time 🙂

In the mid-late eighties I was attached to a kilted militia infantry regiment in Windsor Ont called the Essex and Kent Scottish. Although this regiment has a fine war record, I was not altogether thrilled with this tasking. This is the story of the the very first time I attended a formal event with this regiment, and I met the Honorary Colonel.

The day started off a little roughly with me getting up on the wrong side of the bed. I also wasn’t thrilled with the fit of my new scarlet tunic..it seemed tight where it should be loose and loose where it should be tight. I was also having an issue with my sgian-dubh not staying put in my hose (small dagger that is tucked into your sock with that uniform). All told, it wasn’t the best of mornings.

I got down to the parking lot and looked at my car, then at my motorcycle which I had JUST bought maybe a week before. It was a lovely day, so on the motorcycle I climbed. I looked down at my kilt, and realized that Houston, we have a problem. Ok, I stood a bit and tucked my kilt underneath me (both front and back). HAH! Problem solved. Off I go on my way to work, collecting all KINDS of stares…a guy on a motorcycle in a bright red coat, in a kilt, with bare legs. At a stop light I noticed a police car beside me with the occupants staring. I wasn’t keen on the way they were staring at me, and I must have fidgeted, because when the light turned green, and I accelerated away…my kilt had come loose, and flew up to my chest flapping in the wind.

Now, you have to understand, that with an army kilt, there is nothing worn under it ( it’s all in *perfect* working condition <old kilt joke>), so the cops got a great eyeful as my one hand was quickly trying to grab my kilt and tuck it back underneath me. They didn’t even move! As I looked in my rear view mirror they were still stationary at the green light, mouths open, looking utterly gobsmacked.

This day was just getting better and better….

Next came the event. I can’t actually remember what it was for, but I remember standing there being bored, and just wanting it all to be over. The Honorary Colonel got up to make a speech.  Honorary Colonels are positions in an infantry regiment held by a special person to the regiment. Sometimes it is a former officer, or NCO, sometimes it is a member of the Royal Family. Sometimes it is someone with absolutely no military background. This one was introduced but I didn’t really pay attention, because I was focused on something else. It was a formal parade, with the entire regiment in their dress ceremonial kilted uniforms, and a group of invited dignitaries all in suits. This old fart though? He was in Truis (pronounced Trews).These are trousers in the same tartan pattern that the regiments kilt uses.

For some obscure reason this offended me. Maybe it was because I was already in a fairly foul mood. It seemed to me that If this stodgy wrinkled old prune was going to stand up there and pontificate at me, the VERY least he could do was wear a frickin’ kilt. I don’t care who he thinks he is, or that he is apparently 150 years old, or if he has ugly wrinkly knees….he should be wearing a kilt like the rest of us! Where the heck was his pride??

It was an absolutely asinine thing to get upset about, but there you go. I was. Afterwards, I was invited in to the officers mess for the meet and greet, and to meet “The Colonel”. I was introduced to him and he was an extremely gracious old fellow. He asked me about my record, where I had been, and what I had done, and seemed genuinely interested in my responses. This of course pissed me off more. I started to use something that is known in the military as silent contempt. It is a way to express your contempt to someone, without ever saying a negative word. It has to do with tone, and body language, and mostly the expression of your eyes. The more I was rude to the old fellow, the more he seemed to be entertained! This of course pissed me off more. For the next oh….15 minutes there was a continually escalating scene were I was becoming more and more overt in my expression of contempt for the old man, and he being more and more jovial and amused….he was having a grand old time.

Then came a point where he was talking to someone else, and I did something I should have done sooner. Just like dogs sniff each other back ends, soldiers read each other “racks”. This is the row of ribbons or medals worn on the chest. Someones rack may tell you very little if they only have 1 or 2 (or no) medals, or it may tell you quite a tale. I can’t speak for everyone, but I always read a rack right to left, as I am looking at it. This means I read from the least important to the most important. Here, is The Colonels’ actual rack

I saw the CD which is for 12 years of undetected crime, and the volunteers medal, the 39-45 medal, which meant he was a WW2 vet, I saw the Northwest Europe Star, so he had seen combat. I saw the Order of St John, and beside that just one more. It was plain, and purple, and unadorned by other colours or stripes in the ribbon. It took a moment for my brain to process exactly what I was seeing. It didn’t seem to make sense.

Have you ever watched a movie where in the last few seconds of the characters life they see their entire life in a series of flashes…like snapshots? That is exactly what happened to me. In the space of two, maybe three seconds, my brain pieced it all together.

Purple Ribbon….Essex Scottish….WW2….What is his name, I heard it at least twice today….ww2…no kilt…VICTORIA CROSS!!!!…..Tilson, that’s his name….(then my brain truly clicked in to high gear, accessing my knowledge of Canadian history)….Fredrick A Tilson,Major, Essex Scottish…he is wearing Truis because he has no effin’ legs!!!…lost em in the Hochwald, earning the VC…HOLY CRAP!!

What came out of my mouth at that moment though was not the highest example of my conversational ability, and was not even remotely a shining example of couth, respect, or forethought. What I said was:

Jesus F**kin’ Christ!! That’s the Victoria F**kin” Cross!! You’re Fred Tilson, and you’ve got no legs!!

Dead silence reigned throughout the mess. I had just used foul language in front of a revered war hero, one of the only three living (at that time) VC holders in the entire country. More than that, I had been entirely disrespectful. You could have heard a pin drop.

Smiling slightly and with a twinkle in his eye…he said to me:

Why yes, Corporal…it is, and yes…I am.

There was nothing for it my friends, I was in deep, and when you are in THAT deep, thoroughly and utterly humiliated by your own stupidity, all you can do is what I did next.

I snapped to attention, in the most perfectly rigid attention I had ever performed, with the heels of my mirror shined parade boots clicking together in a perfect Prussian snap and said:

Major! Sir! ……….Can I buy you a f**kin’ drink?

He smiled broadly and said that would be very nice.

The moment broke at that point, and people went back to their drinks and conversations. For the rest of that evening I was at the Honorary Colonels elbow, his unofficial adjutant (His rank was Major, Honorary Colonel is an appointment), making sure his glass was never empty, he had a plate of nibbles available for when he got peckish, and any other need he could conceivable have were met.

I was privileged to spend other times with Major Tilson, and I was always respectful of this great man. Although most people called him Colonel in acknowledgement of his position, and that accomplishment, I always called him Major..to honour the man, who on that day in 1945 did the impossible, and lived, and through his actions kept men alive that surely would have died without him being there. I like to think he knew why I did, and approved.

So what is the big deal about the medal that Major Tilson wore?

In all of history, only 94 Victoria Crosses have been awarded to Canadians, including 1 on the day the VC came in to existence during the Charge of the Light Brigade in the Crimean war against Russia in 1854, before confederation. (A Canadian was part of that charge) It is a medal which is not merely given for extreme acts of bravery and valour, but for actions that if you saw them in a movie you would loudly cry out that they are impossible. To put this in a little better context for you, we have awarded this medal 94 times to Canadians….the Americans have awarded their Medal of Honor 3468 times. You decide which is the more rare and precious medal.

Major Tilson passed away in 1992. There are no VC holders still alive in Canada today.
Included below is a copy of the official Citation for Major Tilsons Victoria Cross: (When you read about his “third wound” his leg was actually blown off)

“The 2nd Canadian Division had been given the task of breaking through the strongly fortified Hochwald Forest defence line which covered Xanten the last German bastion West of the Rhine protecting the vital Wesel Bridge escape route.

The Essex Scottish Regiment was ordered to breach the defence line North-east of Udem and to clear the Northern half of the forest, through which the balance of the Brigade would pass.

At 0715 hours on 1st March, 1945, the attack was launched but due to the softness of the ground it was found impossible to support the attack by tanks as had been planned.

Across approximately 500 yards of flat open country, in face of intense enemy fire, Major Tilston personally led his Company in the attack, keeping dangerously close to our own bursting shells in order to get the maximum cover from the barrage. Though wounded in the head he continued to lead his men forward, through a belt of wire ten feet in depth to the enemy trenches shouting orders and encouragement and using his Sten gun with great effect. When the platoon on the left came under heavy fire from an enemy machine gun post he dashed forward personally and silenced it with a grenade; he was first to reach the enemy position and took the first prisoner.

Determined to maintain the momentum of the attack he ordered the reserve platoon to mop up these positions and with outstanding gallantry, pressed on with his main force to the second line of enemy defences which were on the edge of the woods.

As he approached the woods he was severely wounded in the hip and fell to the ground. Shouting to his men to carry on without him and urging them to get into the wood, he struggled to his feet and rejoined them as they reached the trenches on their objective. Here an elaborate system of underground dugouts and trenches was manned in considerable strength and vicious hand-to-hand fighting followed. Despite his wounds, Major Tilston’s unyielding will to close with the enemy was a magnificent inspiration to his men as he led them in, systematically clearing the trenches of the fiercely resisting enemy. In this fighting two German Company Headquarters were overrun and many casualties were inflicted on the fanatical defenders.

Such had been the grimness of the fighting and so savage the enemy resistance that the Company was now reduced to only 26 men, one quarter of its original strength. Before consolidation could be completed the enemy counter-attacked repeatedly, supported by a hail of [sic] mortar and machine gun fire from the open flank. Major Tilston moved in the open from platoon to platoon quickly organising their defence and directing fire against the advancing enemy. The enemy attacks penetrated so close to the positions that grenades were thrown into the trenches held by his troops, but this officer by personal contact, unshakeable confidence and unquenchable enthusiasm so inspired his men that they held firm against great odds.

When the supply of ammunition became a serious problem he repeatedly crossed the bullet swept ground to the Company on his right flank to carry grenades, rifle and Bren ammunition to his troops and replace a damaged wireless set to re-establish communications with Battalion Headquarters. He made at least six of these hazardous trips, each time crossing a road which was dominated by intense fire from numerous, well-sited enemy machine gun posts.

On his last trip he was wounded for the third time, this time in the leg. He was found in a shell crater beside the road. Although very seriously wounded and barely conscious, he would not submit to medical attention until he had given complete instructions as to the defence plan, had emphasised the absolute necessity of holding the position, and had ordered his one remaining officer to take over.

By his calm courage, gallant conduct and total disregard for his own safety, he fired his men with grim determination and their firm stand enabled the Regiment to accomplish its object of furnishing the Brigade with a solid base through which to launch further successful attacks to clear the forest, thus enabling the Division to accomplish its task.”

(London Gazette, no.37086, 22 May 1945)

To those of you who think Canada has no real military tradition, or that doubt that we are the VERY best in the world…I wish you could have met this man, and some of the other giants I have been privileged to know.

Total Reboot – Not so much

Last night I watched the reboot of Total Recall. I can imagine being a fly on the wall during the initial pitch meeting for this project:

“Ok, listen J.L., picture Total Recall meets Blade Runner, meets Minority Report, meets I Robot. It’s SURE to be a hit.”

“Right you are J.S., its pure GENIUS, we will make a FORTUNE!”

This is exactly what this film is trying to be. It has very little, if anything, that is original. The films that it rips off (I mean pays homage to) do it better.

Now, it must be said that a reboot by definition is not original, it is really about retelling the same story from a different (sometimes only very slightly different) perspective. This movie does do that.

Moving the story from Mars to a scarred and poisoned Earth does put a different spin on the tale itself, but is it enough?

The look of the film is really quite visually stunning. It is a dystopian vision of the future that is clearly trying to be Blade Runner-esque. (queue the director shouting: We need more rain! More rain! More Asians!)
The treatment is superficial though. It does not have the depth that B.R. had. The world, though pretty to look at does not have that believable feel. A little bit more time spent existing in the society and less on running shooting and exploding would have helped with that. No one really looks like they are oppressed or suffering in this overcrowded poisoned world. No explanation is made of how if the the whole world is poisoned, why are England and Australia habitable? If the reason is the cities are domed, that’s cool…just tell us or show us. Is it because they are islands? Why isn’t Iceland habitable then?

 
The car chase scene is lifted pretty much directly from Minority Report. It’s a good chase scene, and I don’t really mind recycled items like this…just please, film makers, file off the serial numbers a bit more so it isn’t so blatantly obvious. It takes you out of the movie when you say to yourself: Hey, I’ve seen this before.

The robotic army. What was the point to that? Other than to rip off some jammy looking robots a-la Will Smith. If you have population pressures which are so bad that it necessitates you invading the Colony, the only other habitable place on earth, for Lebensraum (oh yes! I said it, I went there!)….then the biggest surplus commodity you have is people. Thus, you have all the canon fodder you need for your invasion. People are always cheaper than technology when you have too many people. (Remind me to tell you some time about seeing 50 men repairing a road with hammers and chisels) Good thing the bad guy dies at the end…it’s really not good if you have a “special needs” dictator who doesn’t understand simple economics.

I really need to take a moment to talk about two of the nods to the original film. The first one is the lady going through security. You really do expect that to be Quaid, and it is a nice nod to the original that she is there, but not the disguise….I liked it. The three breasted hooker on the other hand was just gratuitous. In the original film there is a significant sub plot about mutants. The company, cutting corners with safety, costs colonists lives, and there is a huge rate of mutation. In a world poisoned by chemical warfare as the new one purports to be is a perfect opportunity to go into the whole mutation sub-plot, but the movie declines to do so. All there is, is the one scene, connected to nothing else, where suddenly there is a three breasted hooker. It’s like the film shouting at you: Hey 12 year olds! Look! Three Boobs! It does not advance the film in any way, so therefor is gratuitous.

The only other matter to discuss is Arnold or Colin. There is no real right or wrong answer to this one as it is primarily a matter of personal taste. In general, I like most of the uni-dimensional characters Arnold has played. That said, I think Colin was actually a better fit for this character.

Reading all of the above you likely think I hated this picture, but I didn’t. As an action/sci-fi film it is not a bad romp as long as you overlook the inconsistencies and the blatant rip offs, but baby, you ain’t no Blade Runner.

The Little Bunny that Could.

A rabbit passed away this week. Some of my readers will say: Awww that’s a shame. Some of my readers will actually say: So what? It’s just a rabbit.

Let me tell you about him. His name was Scooch.  Scooch was a Mini Rex, like my own Miss Moo. He was also an abandoned bunny.  No one knows for sure how old he was, but in 2009 he was noticed around a neighbourhood along with another rabbit.

In March 2010, the other rabbit was found dead on the side of the road, hit by a car. A week later, Scooch was found on a families lawn, with his back legs not working. Eventually he found his way into the care of a lady named Lisa. It was determined that his back had been broken, and the little fellow was paralyzed.

Most stories like this would end right here with me saying that the rabbit was put to sleep as he would never recover, and would have a poor quality of life. Interesting phrase that….”quality of life”. Little Scooch was not put down, and the quality of his life was superb.

He became the little bunny that could. Paralyzed? No problem…he grew to be strong in his front legs, and could “scooch” as fast and as good as any other bunny could hop. Being paralyzed he also had a diaper, and he never let that hold him back either. Scooch had not one but TWO girlfriends. They were as devoted to him as he was to them. When his mate Hattie became deathly ill, and could not stand up on her own, Scooch, the little bunny that could, helped nurse her back to health. He would prop her up so that she would not roll over so much, and would wash her face over and over so she would be soothed and comforted.

Every year at BunFest, the annual outreach and fundraising event for Rabbit Rescue Inc,  Scooch was there to show people that a disabled rabbit could be happy, and have an excellent quality of life. He inspired everyone who met him, including myself. His legacy lives on in the dozens of disabled rabbits that are being cared for due to the example he set.

He was a hero to hundreds of people, but for himself, he was just a happy boy who loved life, and reveled in what he COULD do. If he could no longer jump in the air (binky) like other bunnies, he would instead throw his head up and shake it to show his joy.

Here are the remembrances of a few of Scooches human admirers.

Jeanne says:

  It was truly special when I saw Scooch in the garden for the first time…not his first time, cause he was out as often as all the other bunnies, but rather the first time I saw him myself, in person. There he was in his well-fitting diaper, a fit designed to keep him dry, protect his fragile skin, and of course give the ultimate “glide” along the ground cover. I could see in no time, that he had not only adapted to his broken body, but he excelled at moving quickly around the property. His joy, adventure and curiosity shone through his very awkward gait. I could finally see why Lisa felt compelled to invite one more broken bunny into her home, she saw in him the capacity for joy, and knew that he deserved a chance to live his best life possible. If there was a doubt in my mind about Lisa’s choice, it disappeared that day.

Scooch, you had the best life possible, and were loved by sister-bunnies, and all the humans who met you. You were such a great example of what could be, to those who may have bailed before their bunnies were ready to go. You deserved to know the kind of love, care and acceptance you got, as you now deserve to be free of your broken body, and are once again whole. Run free little one.

Michelle says:

I’ve seen videos of two-legged cats, two-legged dogs, pigs in wheelchairs, a goldfish in a sling (I swear!) and all of them, every single one, carried on with life. They had no self pity, no grudges, no depression, just a will to live and a love of life.

For me, Scooch is the epitome of this very amazing animal ability. With no use of his back legs, that little guy lived on. He never let his paralysis get in the way of moving around, loving Hattie, playing, napping, lounging, eating. He never minded his condition, but we as humans grieved for him because of all of the things he couldn’t do. But animals don’t do that, and neither did Scooch.

For me, he will always be a shining example of how to live life to its fullest, how to not let things beyond your control limit your dreams. His life was one of love, acceptance, perseverance and inspiration.

I have included a link to my favourite video of Scooch – him binkying in the backyard on a warm summer day. There he is, a little bunny in a diaper, pulling himself through the silky grass, breathing the air, listening to all the sounds, and binkying! Shaking his little head as his only way to express his pure joy at that moment in time, blissfully unaware of the disadvantages that we felt pity for on his behalf. Wow, were we ever wasting our time ❤

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3k7VK5YwDJ4&sns=em

Kimmy says:

The one thing I remember most about Scooch is the incredible kisses he gives. I was visiting Lisa with Jeanne and we were all sitting, holding a bunny each while chatting.
Scooch was nestled on my chest with my arm around him. He reached that sweet little face up and started giving me the softest little bunny kisses all up and down my cheek and chin.
That little bunny, although disabled, had so much love to give. His body may not have worked for him, but his heart worked overtime with the love. 🙂
He will always have a special place in my heart.

Susan says:

They say lightning never strikes twice in the same place. It is a once in a lifetime event. For many people, meeting Scooch is a once in a lifetime shot of inspiration. How fitting it is that when he began his tenure as a Bruce Bunny, his name was Lightning. He is a remarkable rabbit, cared for by a remarkable woman. The bond that Lisa and Scooch share is enviable – rarely do you find such a true and pure example of unconditional love and dedication. Scooch was a casanova, he was a prankster, and he was happy. The Rainbow Bridge will never be the same…it will be better.

The love that Scooch embodied was pure, it was deep, it was kind, and it was infectious. He cared for his girls, Hattie and Belle with the joy and unapologetic enthusiasm of a binky.

He loved.

He is love.

He loved having his ears scratched. He loved his twig tunnel. He loved his lettuce box. He loved food. He DID NOT love Gleason’s visits from the other side of the fence. He loved treats. He loved doing half-head-shake binkies. He DID NOT love being held. He loved the hostas. He loved scooching up and down the hill. He loved farting. But most of all, he loved Lisa.

Scooch loved playing tricks on people. His favourite trick was to sit in such a way that an unsuspecting person might become frantic and panicked truly believing that his leg had ACTUALLY fallen off. Just as this unsuspecting person would make a plea to Lisa to “come HERE!” He would put his leg back on and change the words in his speech bubble from “my leg fell off!” To “GOTCHA”! But I wouldn’t know anything about that. Scooch was a prankster, but by far his most common trick was stealing people’s hearts.

The Rainbow Bridge will never be the same. It will be better. Scooch brings to the Bridge the love, compassion, light and energy that he picked up from the hundreds of people who have been touched by his story. But most of all, he brings to the Bridge a Scooch-heart full of love, appreciation, and peace for his soul-mate, Lisa. The world will never see another bunny just like Scooch. I guess it is true…Lightning really doesn’t strike twice in the same place.

Over the past few weeks the strain of moving only on his front limbs really began to take its toll on his little body. He was about to lose all mobility and one of his two remaining limbs that worked had to be immobilized. More importantly his spirit declined. Despite medication, he was in pain, and was not the joyous Scooch we all loved and admired so much. It was time. He had lived a life of SUCH high quality, but that quality had declined. The decision was made to help him painlessly to the other side.

He may have been “just a bunny”, but he will be sorely missed, not only by his guardian Lisa and his mate Hattie, but also by me, and literally hundreds and hundreds of others. This was the story of Scooch, the little bunny that could. You’re in a better place now little man. We miss you.

Rabbit Care – Nail Trims

 

 

This is my foster bunny Rudy. This picture was taken Saturday morning, and as you can see she is sound asleep in my arms. How she got that way is the topic of my post today.

Bunnies, just like people need regular personal grooming for good health. They also in general do NOT like to be picked up, so this can be a real challenge for a lot of rabbit guardians. Depending on the individual animal, this could entail brushing them, working on mats in their fur, they may get a dirty bum or scent glands, or need a nail trim.

The one thing all bunnies need from that list is regular nail trimming. Often when you bring your rabbit home, it’s nails will not have been trimmed and will be quite long. This is bad for several reasons. One is, in a home environment, overly long nails can get caught in carpeting or fabric, and actually break off, or be ripped out, causing a lot of pain for your bunny. There is also of course the possibility of infection if it is bad enough. Some rabbits will also exhibit a lot of digging activity in an effort to wear down their nails themselves, which can cause a lot of damage to your floors or furniture. Untrimmed nails can also affect how your bunny walks hops and runs, and can lead to a chronic condition called sore hocks.

If you look at your own nails, you see two distinct parts. There is the white bit at the end, which you trim, and a pinkish part called the quick. If you have ever cut in to the quick, you will remember how much it hurt. Bunny nails are similar. If you trim them too far back, and cut the quick, it will cause a lot of pain to your bunny, and it may bleed (there are nerve endings and tiny blood vessels). Some bunnies have very dark nails which making it difficult to see the quick. If you shine an LED flashlight behind the nail, you will be able to see this area fairly clearly.

In a healthy well-groomed rabbit, you may only have to trim their nails once a month, but if the nails have been neglected, you will need to do so weekly. In untrimmed nails, the quick gets longer, meaning even trimmed nails are too long for the rabbit. To counter this, weekly small trimmings will cause a grow-back in the quick, making it smaller, so that you can trim the overall nail shorter. When your bunny has nails that are the desired length, then you can reduce your trimming to twice a month or monthly.

You do not need expensive clippers to do this chore, I bought mine, seen below, at my local dollar store.

There are many bunny guardians that take their rabbit to the vet to have the nails trimmed, but it is a task that you really can do yourself, and save a significant amount of time and money, not to mention the stress on the rabbit from taking them in.
The critical piece is how to hold them. It is always easier to do this with two people, but if you have to do this on your own, like I do, there is a fairly easy way to do it.

The following is how I hold my rabbits for nail clipping, there are other ways which I will review further on. Pick up the bunny, and lay them upside down in the crook of your off-hand arm (if you are right-handed, lay the rabbit in the crook of your left arm). They may fuss and try to roll over. Place your hand on their chest or belly and talk softly to them. You may see the back feet start to quiver…this is a fear response. You can reassure the bunny by holding their feet. In a very short time they will calm down. Spend a little more time stroking their belly, feet, and cheeks until they are fully relaxed and trusting.

You are not trying to “hypnotize” your rabbit. There is a lot of debate these days over the practice of hypnotizing bunnies. It is thought by many to be an extreme fear response to predictors where the bunny becomes completely zoned out…immobile and pretty much catatonic. I certainly don’t want my bunnies viewing me as a predator to be afraid of. I usually start by holding them on my chest of a minute, then sliding them down to the crook of my arm, the whole time engaging them with soft words so they do NOT get scared. This is just a relaxation technique to put them at ease, you aren’t trying to reach that immobile/catatonic state.

There are other ways you can try holding your rabbit to trim their nails if being held in the crook of your arm is just too stressful for them. One way is to sit cross-legged, and hold your bunny on your lap, so that your crossed legs form something of a cradle for the bunny, making it feel secure. Another way is to have your legs out in front of you with the bunny between them facing you, to restrict her movement. A third way is to sit on your legs, and have the bunny in the V between them. If you have a very fearful rabbit, you can use the “burrito” technique, where you wrap your bunny in a towel. This is often very useful for keeping them calm when you have to do trims or give medication. You can find even more single person methods of holding your rabbit online. No one technique will work for every single rabbit. One thing you should never do, is place them on a table for this, as they may get too scared and try to jump off, with the possibility of injuring themselves.

At this point you can pick up your clippers and proceed to trim the nails. Make sure that you trim the 5th nail on the front paws, which is semi opposed and easy to miss if you are not looking for it. If your bunny starts to fuss, put down the clippers and spend some more time reassuring your bunny. One thing to be careful to avoid, is getting hair in the clippers. When you clip the nail, the fur can be pulled out instead of cut, causing pain to your bunny. Take your time, and be calm. If you are nervous, you will translate that to your bunny. When you are done, spend another few minutes telling your bunny what a good girl or boy they are, and spend another few minutes giving strokes and rubs.

 

Instead of a stressful, fearful experience for your rabbit, it can be a bonding time, that your bunny actually starts to look forward to. This is why Rudy fell asleep after her trim, while still laying on her back. She was relaxed and trusting, and a happy girl.

 

As I mentioned at the beginning, Rudy is a foster that is available for adoption. If you live in the Southern Ontario area, and are interested in adopting Rudy, she can be found through Rabbit Rescue Inc.

Rabbits