I very nearly forgot to tell you about my moment of zen this week, so I'll do that now before I forget. Don't worry though, Whisky is all primed and will be taking over from from tomorrow.
A few days ago I was reflecting on how my bunny-handling skills at the Rescue really need some attention. None of the techniques one needs to employ to safely pick up a rabbit sit in the conscious part of my brain anymore, it has all become second nature. The bottom support, covering the head, the light but firm hold. I scoop them up, I clean and groom them, I return them to the floor, I don't even think about it. Sounds positive, but the trouble is that I've been handling the bunnies at home so much recently I've gotten a bit complacent and my natural technique has become more of a cuddle than a secure way of holding them!
Well if anything is going to reinforce the message that I need to take more care at the Rescue, it's suddenly realising that the bunny Caroline has just handed me to return to his warren, the bunny who I have taken and without thinking lifted up to my face and cuddled as if he's my own innocent, trusting little fluff ball, is in fact none other than the notorious flesh-chomping nervous-aggressive Rocket Bunny.
To be honest, I think I only got away with it because he was as surprised to be on the receiving end of a good cuddle as I was to realise what I was doing. Then after a few brief moments of calm where the whole world seemed to melt away, the last few steps back into his warren were a little tense. But hey - I cuddled Rocket! I'll take that adrenaline-filled thrill over skydiving or bungee-jumping any day!