Crunchy Clippings

I have a confession:- I don't enjoy cleaning the house. There, I said it. I've come clean, as it were.

Actually, I am sure this will be of no real surprise to you, since most people probably feel the same way about their own, and it will certainly be no surprise to anyone that's been in my house and seen the inches of hay etc covering the floor of every room and hallway. It's a constant uphill struggle. Uphill on a downward moving conveyor belt. With Whisky-Kong sat proudly hurling barrels of mess down at me from above.

But last night I kind of did enjoy cleaning the bathroom. And why? Because cleaning away seven bunnies worth of fur, claw pieces and crusty scent-gland detritus off the floor was a clear signal to my brain that this months major bunny-maintenance was done and dusted.

"...then when he turns you upside down to do the difficult bits, wait 'til he leans in, then kick the claw-clippers into his face! It's hilarious!"

Alarming Behaviour

Technically I'm on holiday this week, so it would be nice to tell you that I've been sunning myself somewhere pleasant rather than blogging, but in actual fact I'm having a week of being poor, sick and injured. Most of the week has been spent lying flat on the sofa gently whimpering to myself, desperately trying to remember what I bought, ate or lifted to leave myself in such a state.

Still, there's always bunnies to cheer me up. This morning while I tried to have an extra ten minutes in bed, Whisky decided to boost my spirits by standing on my head until I got up and made his breakfast.

"Really? A bunny on your face? Not me, I've been here the WHOLE time. Maybe you dreamt it. Now, about this breakfast..."

Frilly's Back

Frilly is back at the Rescue. One of the 11 Rex babies from last year, we finally found her a new friend she seemed to get on with, only for the bond to then break down after a short period in her new home. It was a pretty bad falling out - you can see all the shaved patches where she had to be patched up.

So the new plan is to bond her with her brother Fletcher, since all the other brother-sister pairs from that group seemed to work so well. And so far so good! (Fingers and paws crossed.)

"Is it me or does that bunny over there look familiar?"

Clear the Bunway

"Do you mind? I was about to start taxiing right where you're stood..."

Saddest. Face. Ever.

I will be so glad when this course of eye and ear drops is done and Whisky stops resenting me (and hiding under his little plastic chair whenever I go into his room). Could you carry on knowing that what you are about to do is responsible for this little face?

"If I eat all my hay and promise to keep my room tidy, then can I stop having medicines dripped in my face? Pleeease????"

Plunge

So, I told you about how I'd moved the little ones' cage onto the bed base last weekend, right? I.e. the cage is on the bed where the mattress would be. Well, it's been working out really well, with lots of fun playing with them on the floor. But unfortunately I've created a small problem for myself - they love it so much that now when I open the cage to change the litter trays, if I don't immediately help them out onto the floor for playtime they fling themselves through the opening like lemmings.

Thankfully no injuries so far, a couple of them even have it down to a fine ninja-like wall-run-type affair, but the "jump-first figure-out-the-landing-later" attitude of the others has me in frantic catcher mode whenever I have to open the little door. It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt, which in this case will most likely be me, diving across the floor with my arms outstretched...

"What? It's dangerous to jump out you say? Is this a good time to mention that I was only distracting you and that three of my sisters are already face down in the bucket behind you trying to right themselves?"

Strikes

It is good practice to check your bunnies daily for signs of fly-strike, especially if they are overweight and struggle to reach everywhere to clean. We seem to have seen an increased number of cases this year in the UK, which is most likely related to the odd weather. Checking your rabbit for this unpleasant and potentially deadly condition may also give you a chance to spot other problems they might have...

After my long Wednesday, I was hoping for an easier one yesterday. So I wasn't overly excited when it turned out I would be spending much of the beginning of Thursday extracting a medium sized whole dead slug from Jemima's dewlap. I struggle to understand how, but it had deeply matted itself into her short fur. She seemed at least as disgusted with the removal process as I was, though I'm pretty sure she was happy to be rid of it as she flew into a round of mad binkies straight after (though there could also have been an "ewwww" and "shakin'-off-the-yuck" factor to that too).

After recovering from her "slug-strike" incident, she also had to endure an unrelated trip to the vet to have her breathing checked and pick up some medicines, so that's another of my bunnies that's going to hate me for the coming weeks.

Do they still make Tamagotchi's? It might be my only chance of pet appreciation any time soon.

"Driver? Drop me at the nearest bar. I need a bucket of carrotini with a very big straw."

Drop and Flush

Last night was Whisky's regular trip to the vets to have his tear duct flushed, a persistent issue related to the problems he had surgery for last year, along with having his ear abscess cleared of ick. Both are followed by a course of drops in the affected area. Let's just say, there aren't enough treats in the world to make me popular again right now.

And I haven't yet told him about the 28 day course of Lapizole he has due straight after. I'm guessing if I'm lucky he might have forgiven me in time for New Year...

"Leave me. Tonight I wish to dine alone while I consider your punishment."

No Charge

Today was going to be all about how the foster litter are getting on, with lots of cute pictures, but unfortunately last night my camera was sans juice.

I was going to tell you about how the lump in Tombo's face has gone down and how the scabby lump on it had disappeared taking with it a chunk of face fur leaving a cute little dimple, but you probably couldn't come close to imagining how cute it is so there's no point without a picture.

I was going to tell you how on Sunday I moved their cage onto the bed base to free up more of the floor for them to play on, how the first time out one of them managed to climb all the way back up to go back into the cage just to wee, then climbed all the way down again. Without the pictures of the new cage position it won't be as clear what an achievement that was.

I correctly predicted that after a couple of adventures on the floor they would gain confidence and last night race about everywhere being utterly hilarious and that it would provide plenty of opportunities for the cutest pictures you ever did see. It did, but there were no pictures because the camera battery was flat.

So today, I will mostly be disappointing you by telling you what a wonderful time I had last night without being able to show you. Still, I can't not give you a bunny pic with this post, so here's a completely random and unrelated picture from a few weeks back of Toby having a nap, just to keep us going until I get the camera charged up again!

Doug/Dug

What do you call a suspicious looking bunny with muddy paws?

The other day at the Rescue I had a feeling that our little group of not-wild-but-their-parents-were bunnies were up to something, but I didn't know what. Yesterday, we found out the "what".

Caroline sent me this picture:

To the right of the picture, that's little Quincy and Guinevere. To the left, that's a hole. It seems that Pea, Pod, Cosmos and Goofy have expertly tunnelled, quite some distance, from their run over to their neighbours, popping up right in the gap in the middle of the slabs. So now the little niggling feeling in the back of my head makes complete sense. Now I know exactly why they were all laid out in a way I hadn't seen them before.

"Ha ha, stoopid humans. All this extra dirt in our run and they don't notice it just cos we is layin' on top of it!"

Tim and Tom

"I love Timothy hay! And this bag is mine! All mine!"

Disruption Disapproval

"I don't care if bunnies in dust pans makes them harder to scoop with, we do NOT approve of being evicted while you clean!"

29 and Climbing

29 degrees centigrade and constant sunshine today. Too hot for bunnies, too hot for me. Too hot for cleaning, too hot for health checking wriggly bunnies, but we did it anyway. Big thanks to everyone who helped today. Think I might need to sit in the shade at home and just relax now though. If somebun will let me of course...

"What next? More playtime or more snacks? Snacks? Is it more snacks? Or maybe... no, is it snacks?"

That Tufty Post-Nap Look

"Well when you've quite finished giggling, perhaps you could fetch me a mirror?"

Totally Week, So Far

Monday - Running out of good veg for bunny breakfast. Trying to write code to process email address changes, but inspiration lacking making whole thing very mind-numbing. Found lump on Tombo's face, probably scabby wound from unknown fight but not noticed it before, not too worried. Board meeting for directors/trustees of the charitable company of the Rescue. Late shop, no broccoli so sprouts instead.

Tuesday - Last of the broccoli for bunny breakfast. Attempting to construct database view for incoming mail bounces, brain dragging trying to negotiate curious data types appearing in fields so try to jump-start it with energy drink. Fail. Give up. Whisky had disgusting dirty scent-glands, had to pull out crusty bits with fingers, very yucky. Washed Tombo's face, hard lump appeared to be under skin, booked vet appointment to check it out. Jemima suspicious of something, not sure what but suspect something to do with me smelling of Whisky scent glands, bolted off at dinner time then avoids me, so NO bunnies talking to me today.

Wednesday - Sprout with bunny-breakfast, but only small amount and one veg of three so hopefully not a big change. Trying to figure out how to rsync over ssh without a login shell - it's almost like everyone I work with is trying to play tennis with my head. Whisky underside covered in poo like he's laid in it - suspect sprout-related bottom explosion. Try to remove with fingers, still soft, big mess. Trim out with scissors. Take Tombo to vets, hardly any traffic, arrive early but emergency in before us so appointment late. Vet confirmed probably just fighting injury, should heal. Back home, feeding and cleaning. Trying to explain to babies that it really doesn't help when they climb into the dustpan. None listen. Ask Whisky to write tomorrow's blog post for me but he declines in favour of licking himself. Inspiration fails me, decide to ramble on about my tiring week so far and end with a picture of Tombo so everyone's happy.

"Snacks? For me?"

Absolute Terror

The key to surviving a hang-out session with Rocket with all your fingers intact is:

• Always know where his attention is
• Don't lose concentration, even for a second
• When you're taking his photo, never take your eye off him to look through the viewfi...OMG-I'M-GONNA-DIE!!!!

"Don't worry - I was just reaching for the next piece of parsley. But when the parsley runs out, so should you. Screaming."

Turnaround

"Are you looking at my tail?"

The Sheldon Affinity

"Excuse me - I believe that if you check our room-mate agreement, you will find that it quite specifically says NO KIDS!!!"

... But No Photo

"Well if you're gonna get grumpy when we try to help with your cage-cleaning game, why should we take part in your photo-taking game?"

Not a Drop

"Oh by the way, don't drink the water in the bowl - did you see what I did in it earlier?"

"Huh? Say what?!"

"Bleurgh!!!!"

Mopsy Steps In

Mopsy at the Rescue Nov 2008, letting me cradle her for tummy grooming!

I hope you don't mind me sharing that little story of what I like to think happened to my special little boy Santa after he left me. Not the usual happy tale I post here, but as I have mentioned before, Santa really was the original inspiration for this blog. Caroline was fed up of me taking up all her time telling of all the crazy things he used to get up to and suggested I start a blog about it to share the stories of him with other people (instead of bothering her!).

There are a number of bunnies I could have picked to meet him in the story, but Mopsy just seemed like she was the right one. You have seen her sister Flopsy on the blog before. Flopsy and Mopsy were friendly French lops who lived together at the Rescue. They were like big soppy mascots and generally wandered about the place all day doing their own thing. Always happy to get stuck into something to help out, at one point they even fostered a litter of babies who came in to us.

After Mospy died, Flopsy had a few partners and for a while even lived in Caroline's office/hospital, hanging out with the poorly buns and keeping Caroline company while she worked. Her last partner was a stray that had been handed in to us, a handsome stud (Caroline's description, not mine!) Caroline named Elvis.

Caroline was deeply attached to Flopsy, as were all of us. When, just a few weeks after I lost Santa, Flopsy's time came to go to Rainbow Bridge, it seemed fitting to bring together the two bunnies they left behind - Jemima and Elvis were bonded and still live together with me now.

So that's that, if you followed my reasoning - it somehow seemed right that the dear motherly soul that should meet Santa was one who looked over all the bunnies at the Rescue and whose sister was shortly to join them at the bridge leaving her partner to take care of Jemima.

So that's the sad stories done. I promise my cute little house guests will return to cheer us all up soon!

Remembering

10th August 2010 - 2 years ago today.

Mopsy lifted her head and gently shook the sleep from her eyes. Pushing out her front paws into a huge stretch, she threw back her head and let out one last sleepy yawn before rising to tackle the day. Mopsy knew she was set for a long and tiring one as today was finally her turn to be the official "greeter". But remembering how much she appreciated the friendly welcoming face when she arrived, she was sort of looking forward to being that face for somebun else.

Arriving at the path just in time for the first of the new arrivals, Mopsy greeted them, told them about the place and listened to their tales. She was upbeat at first, but after she had welcomed a few into the meadow, Mopsy was actually starting to think it might make her sad to go through this over and over all day. But then she saw the effect the warm sunshine, luscious grass and brightly coloured flowers had on them as they moved past her, how the pain in their faces melted away as they ran happily about. After that Mopsy felt she "got it" more and all the following greetings started to go much better. By mid-morning Mopsy was settled in to the routine, and was feeling very positive again.

After a short break, there was again movement down the path. Sure enough, a little white figure came shuffling into view, moving uncomfortably towards her. As he came nearer, Mopsy recognised the owner of the sad little face, with his little pink eyes and the distinctive split up his right ear. She couldn't tell if Santa recognised her back though, if he did he didn't show it, but this didn't bother Mopsy since she knew how confusing things could be here at first.

"Where am I?" asked Santa, his broken voice a clear sign of the pain he was still feeling.

"Welcome to Rainbow Bridge" Mopsy replied. "You are safe now, among old friends."

As Santa continued to speak, the effects of being so close to the magical meadow and it's healing powers were beginning to sooth his voice. "How did I get here? I was alone and scared, my tummy hurt so much..."

"You have passed on from that place. Here there is only peace, little one."

Santa paused. He looked more relaxed, his physical pain gradually fading, but he was clearly still troubled. "Where's my daddy? Why did he leave me in that place to die alone and in pain?"

Mopsy moved to Santa's side to comfort him. "Your human loves you very much, more than anything else in the world. When he left you with those strange people he thought they could make your pain go away and return you to him, like they did when you were sick before. When they told him you were getting worse he was so sad he couldn't think. When he realised that you needed him, he wanted to be with you but it was too late and you were already gone."

After a few seconds thought, Santa went to speak again, but Mopsy already knew what he was going to ask. "You will see him again" she said. "One day he too will leave that world and find himself in this meadow."

"Will he remember me?" asked Santa. "I also left behind my beloved Jemima, and I know he will want to find another bunny to keep her warm at night - won't I be replaced in my daddy's heart?"

Mopsy stepped back and turned her head quickly around. As she did so her ears drew an arc in the air throwing up a sparkling shower of magical dust. As the dust floated downwards it created the appearance of a window, through which they could see the world below. There they could see Santa's human, heartbroken and wracked with grief. The image started to move quickly, as if it were a movie in fast-forward, and again and again they saw these emotions return to him as he recalled the little boy he so missed.

"My dear sweet Santa. You have touched this man's heart so very deeply, he will certainly remember you always. He will hang your pictures on his walls and delight in telling tales of you to all who come into his life. And though he may adopt many other little fluffy children, you will always be his first and most precious. Finally, when the day comes that he arrives here at the meadow, he will run to you as fast as he can, he'll lift you into his arms and never want to let you go. Then you will all cross the rainbow bridge together as a family, never again to be feel the pain of being parted from one another."

As the window faded, so with it the image of the grieving man, and even though she knew bunnies can't cry, Mopsy could swear she saw a tear fall from Santa's eye. But whatever she did see, in a second it was gone and he was smiling. Santa nodded and, like all the others before him, thanked her before starting off into the meadow. But then he stopped and called back to Mopsy.

"Do you have anything round here that's good for climbing on?" he asked with a grin. And then he was off.

Trying to decide if he can work the top off the tub of food with his paws, Nov 2009

Disapproving of my "old man" shoes, which Jemima had already chomped holes in, Nov 2009

From the last set of photo's I took of him, relaxing in the garden, July 2010.

All Meals Included

When staying at a guest house where food is included in the price, it is always worth arriving early in the dining area to beat the mealtime rush. As well as ensuring you get the best picks from what's available, it means you can secure a seat as close to the buffet as possible. Like, really close.

And don't worry if you receive glaring looks from other diners - they are probably just jealous that you got there ahead of them!

"The food here is not bad, but it does taste somewhat of feet."

New House Guests

"Ah, hello, yes. I would like to speak to the manager if I may. You see, my five siblings and I ordered a room with a view, but the only view we seem to have is of a grumpy grey lop who keeps glaring at us and mumbling something about us stealing his nap room..."

The Pyramid and the Sphinx

Flanking the great pyramids of Egypt are the mighty sphinx statues. For years archeologists pondered the meaning of these stone creatures:- Are they guardians to the tombs of revered leaders? Do they represent some ancient gods long forgotten? Or perhaps, was it just that the architect who came up with the design had a pet bunny with no front teeth?

"Oh mighty tin pyramid that dost bestow upon me the gift of tasty grated carrot, bring forth your great bounty that you might be worshipped."

Phases

Whisky's little habits seem to go in phases, especially the place he chooses to take his daytime naps. He'll have a few weeks always sleeping in front of the window in his room, then for a few days he'll want to nap in the lounge, occasionally it's in the hallway. Wherever it is, for the duration of that phase it is always the exact same spot every day. So when I can't find Whisky in the afternoon, I generally only have a few places to check. Yesterday he started back in this phase:

"Call this bedding? There's no hay and it doesn't even have litter material under it. Speaking of which, erm... you may need to put these sheets back in the machine after I'm done..."

Disapproving Sunday Slumber

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear. A Sunday lie-in is only an option for ME."

The Cone

"Is it a delicious carrot? No. It is not a delicious carrot.
Is it some tasty greens? No. It is not some tasty greens.
Is it some parsley? No. It is most definitely not some nice fragrant parsley.

Do feel free to stop me when you see where I'm going with this, or we WILL be here all day.

Is it..."

Day Six Highlights

As the London 2012 Bunnolympics continues, yesterday saw a tremendously riveting match as two British contenders met in the final of the tug-o'-snacks. We take you back now to those tense last moments of the match...

We see a strong play here as the final whistle approaches...

...but there's a surprise last minute interception...

...could go either way at this point...

...but in the end there can be only one winner.

Unfortunately, since Flipper and his sister Fancy look pretty much identical, we are not entirely sure which one that was.

Fixing a Hole

Some weeks back, I realised we had gotten to a stage where there was no part of the ground in Jemima and Elvis' run that had not at some point been dug under to be part of their underground warren. It had been dug and filled so many times it was no longer safe to walk on for anyone heavier than Jemima (and sometimes not even her). Feet would suddenly drop into the earth and disappear.

So I dug the whole thing over and re-turfed it, giving them a nice flat and stable surface to run about on and of course eat. They've had a good few weeks of this but it was only a matter of time before they moved on. I went out to feed them dinner last night and discovered this.

I asked them what they had planned for their next secret lair, but they were tight lipped. I guess I'll just have to wait and see what adventurous constructions they come up with this time, but "forewarned is forearmed" as they say - at least now I know I need to allow another 20 minutes before their next vet visit for "bunny extraction time".

"Quick, act natural. Operation Hideaway is go - he's fallen for the decoy tunnel already!"

200th Post

Well according to Blogger this is our 200th post, so I thought I'd better give you something a bit different. With that in mind, today I am going to share with you some very special memories of mine from September 2010!!! (OK, that seems a bit random, but bear with me.)

You see, Whisky was not the first big-eared fluffster to live in the room that is now his. The first occupants, of the lagomorph variety anyway, were a set of fosters made up mostly of teeny balls of fluff.

When Mindy gave birth to a second litter at the Rescue just a few weeks after she arrived, Caroline asked me to take care of her first litter until they were ready to be rehomed. The Rescue was already beyond full, Mindy being part of a very large emergency intake of bunnies that summer, and she needed the space.

So into the second bedroom in my house they went:- Google, Shandy, Mohito, Bing and Badger. 5 girls, 5 weeks old, all adorable. They spent the first week or so adjusting to their new environment together in a single cage (they were pretty small at the time), but when they were big and brave enough I started letting them out to play. That's pretty much the day the peace in my house ended and the chaos began...

"Oh hello. We can come out now, right?"

"Bleurgh! These floors aren't grass!!!"

"We're allowed in here too, right?"

"Woo-hoo!!!!"

"I claim this tub of snacks for all bunny kind. Well, for me anyway."

"There's snacks in here too, right? Yeah, they're mine now."

"And we claim this human to do all our bidding from this day forth."

If you are not squeeing with delight by now (I know I was constantly those first few weeks), you're probably on the wrong blog! So anyway, very, very cute, but it gets more special. You see, even before Google, Shandy, Mohito, Bing and Badger arrived, I had an even more precious guest already living with me. Here she is - Twiggy the Hare.

Yes that's right, hare. She was handed in to the Rescue as a stray baby bunny and passed to me to look after, but it soon became clear that something was different. Her behaviour, her reaction to other rabbits, the tremendous growth rate (especially the way her legs seemed to grow faster than the rest of her!).

A little research and some communication with the Hare Preservation Trust(HPT) led us to conclude she was indeed not a rabbit but a rare albino hare. Being wild she was naturally very scared of her captivity and any time I was nearby she would either hide away in her little house...

...or go and sit behind the furniture until I left the room. When left alone she would literally run up the walls trying to find a way out, which was very distressing for both of us. My research had indicated that it is not uncommon for young hares in captivity to become unwell from the stress and even die, so we decided the best thing for her was to find a way to release her back into the wild. HPT directed us to Tiggywinkles wildlife hospital who have a programme of releasing wild animals into natural controlled environments.

They were a bit reluctant to take Twiggy in at first. When Caroline and I arrived with her the conversation went something like this:

RECEPTIONIST:That's a domestic rabbit. We don't take domestic rabbits.
US:We are a rabbit rescue. We know rabbits. This is not one.
RECEPTIONIST:I'll get the vet nurse.
VET NURSE:That's a domestic rabbit. We don't take domestic rabbits.
US: We're pretty sure it's a hare.
VET NURSE:I'll get the vet.
VET:That's a rabbit. She's too small to be a hare.
US: She's a baby. Last week she was even smaller. Next week she'll be much bigger. Besides, HPT told us she is definitely a hare. If anyone knows what a hare looks like...
VET: I'll get the boss.
BOSS: OK we'll take her I guess.
VET: [picks up Twiggy - her huge long legs drop out from underneath her] Er, yeah, OK I see your point. I'll take her out the back and put her in a shed.

So, as far as it could, the story had a happy ending with Twiggy being released after a short stay at Tiggywinkles as well. And of course some months later, my other guests all returned to the Rescue to find themselves husbuns and new homes.

Well that's the story of the little furry friends that got to use Whisky's room before him! I hope you enjoyed reading about it and I look forward to sharing the next 200 tales with you on this blog!