He’s a bit of a poser, but it’s no wonder that he’s full of his own self importance – he is state of the art in puppet manufacturing. The truth revealed itself once I read his label:

He has trouble with his limp whiskers, so he’s constantly preening them in an attempt to give them a more sophisticated look, like Poirot. For example.

He wasn’t a giveaway on this occasion, but he was obviously worth every penny. He’s performed at a few family gatherings and is especially skilled at mime, following in the footsteps of his idol, Sooty.

My mum said as she stood up to leave, “We better go before she makes it talk”.

*Contented sigh*

I love how my family just knows me.

Tango (the gray rabbit on the left) got a new friend this week… Meet Petite!

My babies are growing rapidly!

These babies have a newly cleaned cage, and are growing well! They are so adorable.

I am down to 13 chicks. Got our very own version of Angry Birds here!  However, they are now at the perfect square foot to age ratio. I also posted a picture of the chicks at week 1 (adorable little puffs).

The big rabbit (around 6.5 lbs) is slowly growing, but the baby rabbit is putting on weight quite well.

I am still in Wisconsin working on the soils4teachers website, and for the Chosen One’s graduation.  But, I did get to learn to drive a tractor, which will come in handy once I am done with graduate school and can me some land of my own.

I can’t wait to return to North Carolina, butcher my rabbits ( I hope they are ready), and finish building the coop.

These are the babies when I first got them home!

Beth had a few male fawns that were a bit older–I met them on my last visit. Male rabbits are harder to find homes for because you only really need one to get a rabbitry going. They were so sweet though, and I just couldn’t help agreeing to give this guy a home.

He was due for a grooming, so Beth used him to demonstrate some basic grooming techniques. His first useful coat was also ready to be harvested, so I got to see exactly what he’ll be producing and how easily it comes off. I’m glad that these rabbits can be plucked instead of shorn–seems like plucking is a lower risk entry to gathering bunny wool.

We couldn’t believe how cool he was with being held like this.

I had the darndest time choosing my second rabbit from the younger batch. I adored this tiny little bunny. She was from a litter of ten, and all of the kits in her litter were a little smaller. She was definitely a snuggler.

One of her little sisters, the runt, had escaped just before Sarah and I showed up, and we had a grand old time helping Beth round up the clever little adventuress. If anyone ever asks you how long it takes three grown women to chase one bunny, the answer is WAY longer than you’d think.

This is the bunny we ended up deciding on in the end, and she’s the niece to the male rabbit. Apparently inbreeding is a done thing when you’re dealing with rabbits, though, because Beth said we could breed them together if we wanted to.

Not sure I’ll be up for breeding them anytime soon–that’s a more difficult endeavor that would benefit from a degree in rabbit genetics. All of that is far more complicated than it seems like it ought to be, but fortunately, Sarah (aka Queen of Overthunk Things) has taken an interest in both rabbit behavior and genetics, so I can pretty much count on plenty of help raising those rabbits right.

Our date to pick them up is tentatively May 31st, so keep you eyes open for more fuzzy bunny pictures soon!

I can’t believe the kits are already getting fur. Enough so that they no longer look like naked pink creatures, but are now with just enough white to tell it’s starting to come in. All seven are still healthy and getting enough to eat. I gave myself a bad scare though when the little guy I was holding flipped himself out of my hands and over the front edge of the nest box. Fortunately he was headed towards me and I moved fast enough that I caught him between the nest box and my stomach. I was so afraid I’d hurt him, though I was really careful not to squeeze him between me and it. He seemed to be no worse for wear, other than it scared the pee out of him. Almost three and a half years of raising livestock and this is the first time I’ve been christened.

Piper had parked herself in front of the cage door today so since the book says she can have a carrot every other day, I gave her the top half of one along with the greens. First I swung it in front of her to catch her eye and then I lured her to the other side of the cage with it so I could get the nest box out. She really wanted that carrot, but she started with the greens of it. I think she’s still adding fur to the nest box because it sure seems like there is a lot more even than yesterday. The bedding in the nest box still seems dry and from what I’ve read I shouldn’t try to change it until they are 10 days old. I am going to bring out a deep bucket to put them in while I change it so that I don’t risk any more of them flailing themselves out of safety.

I gave all of the big rabbits apple tree sticks to chew on today. They all went to town on them like they were the best thing ever. I think I will try giving the 8.5 week olds some tomorrow, too. I thought that since the 13 week olds were getting a little bitey that might be what the problem was, they needed to chew on wood. The littler ones haven’t gotten bitey at all.

One thing about having the 13 week olds in the larger cages is it is harder to catch them. Well, not for me, but for my son. All I do is open the door and move the hay bin right next to it and they walk out onto it for me. He’s not one who likes to sit patiently and let them come to him, though. So he’s getting a little frustrated with that, but fortunately Leo and Phoebe have gotten more cuddly so it’s not all bad for him. Except holding them is like holding a baby. It doesn’t seem like much at first but it gets heavy fast.

The husband and I are going to a meat rabbit expo in Lynden on Saturday. They are going to have a slaughter/butcher demonstration in the afternoon that we want to attend. Plus the place where it is at has rabbit feed that is milled fresh each week from a place the next county over and I want to ask some questions about it and see if it is a better feed to have my rabbits on. They have no soy and no GMO in it, but I don’t think the stuff I’m using now does either. The only benefit I can see is that the local stuff is local and fresh and comes in 50 pound bags and the stuff I’m using comes from who knows where or how fresh it is and it comes in 40 pound bags.

Our rabbit wringer has not arrived. When we ordered it, it said it would take 3 to 4 weeks to arrive. They took payment out immediately. It’s been over a month and nothing. The husband is calling them in the morning. We looked at their website and it is now saying that it will take six weeks. But my opinion is that since we ordered in the 3 to 4 weeks to deliver time frame and they did not deliver it that they owe us a discount or something for the inconvenience. They really shouldn’t take the money until they can fill the order. I ordered with plenty of time to have had it be here before we needed to slaughter, but here it is not.

I don’t know what it is with these places lately. First Bass Equipment screws things up and they are supposed to be the premier supplier of cages and then these rabbit wringer people can’t get their act together and get stuff out on time. They have such good reputations, but I have to say I think their follow through is less than stellar. I’m hoping that the expo people show a couple other methods of dispatching a rabbit because if we don’t figure something else out between now and Sunday, these bunnies are going to be with us a few more weeks. Neither one of us wants to do the broomstick method. And I don’t like the put the bunny in a pillowcase and whack them in the head with a pan method either. It seems like it would induce panic in the rabbit and I want this to be as humane as possible. We probably will go with the broomstick method if nothing else presents itself.

And with all the crazy new gun laws, I don’t even know if you can go into a sporting goods store and walk away with even a pellet gun anymore. Each state is throwing up something different on practically a daily basis. I guess we’ll figure something out. We’ll have to.

I want sleep.
Baby Bean wants to play.
I wont even fight this battle. He will win no matter what. So why waste limited energy fighting. Besides, I feel like crap when I yell at him. Especially when he doesn’t deserve it.

Maybe I can get him to just chill on the bedroom.
Just maybe.

Head down concentrating hard with the heavy patter of torrential rain beating rhythmically down on the conservatory roof; I became aware of people in my garden.   I looked up to find Mini Son with one of his teachers.  She was carrying a large box and he, a crutch. A pang of panic punched my stomach; had he been in an accident, why did he need a crutch, haven’t I been here before?  They reassured me he was fine, as out of the box they pulled a white fluffy rabbit.

I have two rabbits; technically they are my children’s but guess who looks after them.   Following another long cold winter we have let them out of their hutches into the garden which gives them freedom and exercise.  They have now discovered the weather worn holes in the back fence not to mention the broken panel in the back gate that no longer closes.   I also suspect they have dug a tunnel under their hutches to the field behind.  A large expanse of open field which is public ground, unfortunately planted with so many tiny trees that no-body is able to use it.   My children being the exception, they play the modern equivalent of cowboys and Indians shooting and hiding and battlefields.  They have a base up in the trunk of the ancient tree that commands the far left corner of the field and watches over the estate.   They play a mix of ball games or rugby tackle mauling with a range of local kids on the small area kept tree free for future development.

This has given the rabbits a hitherto unknown freedom which they are currently taking full advantage of.  Smudge has developed a teenage attitude and has a regular nightly meeting around midnight with two local cats.    They sit on a nearby roundabout and play together.  Somehow I do not think it is the cats in command.    Smudge has also developed a strong attachment to getting into the cage of a nearby female rabbit.

I often get people returning Smudge or telling me my rabbits are out.  I have stopped running after them.   They come back when they want food, when it is wet for shelter or sunny to lounge on the decking and have a wonderful life just lolloping around the fields.  A few dogs have chased them and they lead them straight home and under the decking where they have I suspect a myriad of tiny tunnels.

Mini Son’s boxed rabbit was a young fluffy white one not unlike our own Magic, it had been running round the car park at school, cars narrowly missing her and she was now cold, shivery and very frightened.  I was sure it was the errant female Smudge had previously been enamoured by. Mini Son had come home for some bedding and rabbit food and if I knew the owner could I contact her.  Impulsively I told them to put the rabbit in Magic’s cage. At least she would be dry and could be picked up once I had contacted the owner.

I rang my friend.  It wasn’t hers, their female was still locked away safe from stud in waiting Smudge and tucked up warmly and dryly in her pen.    I spent the rest of the working day contacting people to no avail; it seemed that no-one had lost their pet.  I left messages with the vets, haven’t I done this before Reg ( http://tiggyhayes.wordpress.com/2012/06/28/reg/)!.

As I prepared our evening meal, contemplating with each chop of the carrots how I should break the news to Sexy Sporty Dad that he might need to feed an extra mouth tonight, there was a knock on the door.  A man dripping wet in overalls and wellies stood on the step.  He looked as if he had spent hours chasing round looking for a lost pet.   Delighted he had found me before Sexy Sporty Dad arrived home I was about to take him round to the hutch when he asked if I had lost a rabbit.

Was I not supposed to say that to him?

I stood, now dripping with the  rain beating down my back looking at all three rabbits as he produced yet another rabbit.  This young blackish brown one was cold, shivery and very frightened.  He had been caught under the cars in his road near the school.    He had been running about all day apparently with a white one earlier and caused many a car to break suddenly.   It had taken the man ages to catch him.

Coincidences! There are some coincidences that I just don’t believe in.

These were a pair that had escaped together, it made sense to keep them together.  That is how I came to have two extra bunnies when Sexy Sporty Dad arrived home from work.  All my contrived explanations and assurances that I had already prepared were unnecessary as he knew the whole story before the door had even closed.   Mini Son desperate to show him the new pets, Middle son was busy thinking of names for them and No 1 Son nonchalantly asking to borrow the car while our attentions were turned.

Jungle drums finally worked and a series of texts, mobile calls and facebook messages led a local mother to ring me to ask if I had one of her missing pets. Over the moon that I had both, she arrived as the rain began to cease its relentless pommeling with a large overnight bag to retrieve her mischievous monsters.

Reunited with two rabbits a much relieved parent left, our own pets resumed their quest for freedom and I served dinner.

The crutch? It had been used to catch the rabbit!

Writing

I have a very exciting development in the Memories saga.   A friendly barrister has agreed to read the book for authenticity.  I have naturally sent it off to her before I or she can change our minds.  I hope she doesn’t throw it back as rubbish.

Tiggy

Check out my cooking blog at Teatime Treats with Tiggy

THE FOLLOWING POST CONTAINS GRAPHIC AND VIOLENT MATERIAL.  INTENDED FOR MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY.

I have heard that Rat Terriers and Jack Russell Terriers are very efficient at killing rats.  They don’t stop to eat them.  They break the neck of a rat by shaking it and then move on.  They don’t have to be taught to perform such a task.  It is in the DNA of such breeds.

Beau is a Yellow Labrador Retriever.  His lineage is bred to retrieve birds that have been shot by hunters who do not want to look in the brush for birds or swim out for birds that land in water.   They are supposed to gently carry the birds in their soft mouths.

Recently I wrote about herding dogs and Beau’s interest in being a cow dog despite a lack of encouragement from my wife, Miss Sugar.

Today he ventured into the line of work for which terriers are genetically programmed.  My that Beau is a dog with many interests!

Miss Sugar noticed that Beau was carrying something in his gentle mouth.  It was not a bird.  It was furry.  It was a bunny rabbit.  It was alive.  Beau had made a new friend.  Or not.  Sugar called to Beau.  He looked right at her and shook the bunny, which caused it to cross this vale of tears into bunny heaven.  Apparently, Beau watched a program about Rat Terriers on the Animal Planet TV channel and learned the technique.

Shortly after that alarming display of terrier skills, Sugar saw that Beau had captured another young rabbit.  Again, Sugar did not approve.  She commanded that he drop it.  (He does drop balls that he has retrieved so he knows the word.)  To her amazement, Beau dropped this second bunny.  He dropped it without first shaking it.  As a result, it actually hopped away.  What a good dog!

When I came home and Sugar relayed the stories of the two bunnies, which stories had opposite endings, I looked out on the deck.  Sadie was laying there.  Beau was laying there.  Next to Beau, laying very, very still, was a little bunny.  I got a shovel, planning to be the undertaker.

You see where this is going, gentle readers.  You are thinking that this bunny had passed away like his peer did earlier in the day.   Beau picked up his bunny when I opened the door and went down the steps from the deck to the ground.  Miss Sugar brought out a treat.    Sugar told me to get the bunny as Beau came over for his treat, but I did not.

I did not scoop up the bunny because when Beau dropped it in order to get Sugar’s treat, it hopped away to the woodpile from whence it likely came.

Maybe Beau isn’t cut out to be a good terrier.

Yeah, I went out and sat around and took pix of the critters in the back yard again.  This is the bunny edition.

I started calling this one Scratch because she has a black line across her forehead.  She’s the only one I’ve named.

One of her bayyyybeeees!   (Oh jeez, did I just write that out loud?)

I dunno, I like this one.

Is this cute?  Is it?  Sometimes it’s like they’re posing just for me.

This is why we have chicken wire around everything.  They are not as destructive and greedy as the ground squirrels.

The fallow deer filed up the other side of the hill

A charming shot of a willow warbler among broom on the hill

Continuing interest from my walks during a year-long wildlife crime survey in 2011/12

Saturday 12 May 2012.  Weather:  Sunny, but with occasional cloud cover. Wind brisk though moderated as the day progressed. Pleasant.

Part 2

Further down the hill my ‘deer day’ continued, as I watched a dappled fallow doe and a light coloured calf climb the hill on the other side of the Allt Choire a’ Chaibeil burn. The calf, a young male, had small sharp-looking buds of antlers and rather resembled a wildebeest calf on the wrong continent. The doe was making good progress, but the calf seemed much more intent on looking back to try to understand the reason for the hasty departure from what would no doubt have been a comfy couch in the sun. I sat on a rock, partly to watch the deer and partly to look for any sign of a hen harrier. Another group of fallow deer then filed up the hill from roughly the same area as the light coloured ones. This time there were seven, led by a very rotund-looking doe that seemed ready to drop its almost-developed calf anytime. Tail-end Charlie of the line was again a calf, though this time female.  Like its earlier light-coloured relative, it also seemed more interested in what was behind rather than what was ahead.

From walking parallel with one neighbour’s march fence, I now gradually turned right to walk parallel with the other neighbour’s march fence in my clockwise circuit of Conlan Hill. I passed a group of larch trees and checked them for carrion crow nests as they were the only trees in the area. No carrion nests, so the keeper’’s work is definitely paying off. Further round the hill, near the end of my circuit, I spotted fox tracks on a patch of drying mud on the track. They were not fresh enough to have been left the previous night, but had they been there during extremely heavy and prolonged rain on Thursday (three days ago) they would have been washed out. I concluded they had been left on Thursday night after the rain went off. The pads were typical of fox, with the hind foot landing almost inside the mark left by the front foot. George has culled a fair number of foxes this spring, but like the carrion crows, there are always some left.

As I passed the pond on the hill I could hear a hushed willow warbler song coming from within a patch of broom on my right. A willow warbler – possibly the singer – flew from the broom and landed on the track in front of me. I photographed the bird and when I looked at the photo later I was quite amazed at the length of its legs. Perched on a bush the legs appear insignificant, but this bird, standing on the road, had its legs, stilt-like, at full stretch and its head cocked to the side scanning for insects. This is all difficult to register even when looking at a bird through binos, but can be appreciated at leisure from a photograph. The obliging willow warbler then flew to a small broom bush and inspected it for insects, daintily picking a minute morsel off with some regularity.

I left the hill road and walked across a boggy area where George said he had also seen snipe, but no success for me yet again. Clear of the wet area, I sat on a grassy knoll for my second sandwich of the day (the first having been taken as I watched for hen harriers). It was a lovely spot at the top end of the clear-felled area beside High Larches Wood, with the partridge drive through the clear-felled area simply being called the High Larches drive. An old birch tree was close-by on my right. A stand of young birches, now almost in full leaf, was ahead of me in a dip through which ran the embryonic burn that eventually flows into the estate loch. A single roe doe was grazing away to my right, unaware of my presence. She looked rather clapped in at the flanks and I was sure she would have twin fawns hidden in the bracken nearby. Like most animals, roe deer go off on their own to have their fawns, and she is likely now to remain apart from other roe deer until late autumn, when she and her fawns will merge with others into a larger group. The group won’t necessarily stay together all winter but will drift apart and regroup as circumstances – particularly disturbance – dictate.

I came through the interior of the High Larches Wood, keeping to the inside edge of the conifers on the south-west side. There was a huge buzzard nest three-quarters way up a larch tree and to one side on the main trunk rather than in a fork. Initially I thought it was a nest being used this year but when I turned round a buzzard came off another nest in a nearby sitka spruce. Like the one in the larch, this one was also three-quarters way up the tree and against the trunk. The buzzard mewed from above in an alarm call which was more rapidly repeated than the normal communication call. As I left the wood the buzzard was still mewing, but from an incredible altitude. I was amazed at the different reactions of nesting buzzards. Of the four active nests I’d encountered I’d now had one buzzard mobbing me (rather stupidly from a distance that was within shotgun range); two circling and mewing at a height not much above tree level; and now this one, which was not much more than a speck in the sky.

I had a listen and a look at the line of predominantly goat willow than runs from the High Larches Wood to Low Wood. Almost right away I heard a whitethroat and I tried to get into a position to see it. It had initially been amongst willow but flew to a rowan. I found a comfy seat on a rock and watched the rowan tree. I had tantalising glimpses of the bird among the branches. It then moved to one of the topmost branches, where I had a good view but for only a few seconds before it flew over my head and continued to sing from within the bowels of a rhododendron. Despite sometimes singing from high in a tree, overall they seem much more secretive than willow warblers.

From here I headed towards the L Wood, stopping briefly to spy up towards Spooky Valley, where there are normally buzzards circling, though not today. I had high hopes for L Wood as I thought it would have been ideal for small birds: mainly youngish birch trees, with a line of mature beech down the west side and a mix of mature trees along the south end and the east side. Apart from pheasant, partridges, mistle and song thrushes, chaffinches and of course the brambling from the winter time, I have seen or heard little else. I decided to sit a while to see what happened and found a mossy tree trunk that suited the purpose. When I sat down I heard a thump from underground, then a three quarter grown rabbit looked out from under the stump, saw me, and bolted into a hole under the next stump less than ten yards away. Had I been interested in catching the rabbit it would have been no safer there than where it originally had been. The rabbit, and a rather hoarse cock pheasant with a missing tail, was the sum total of 20 minutes on the tree stump. But at least I had tried.

Leaving the L Wood I cut through the Henhouse Strip to the left hand side of the pond. Half a dozen mallard drakes were on the pond but were reluctant to leave and swam into some rushes at the far side. At the far end I went up the dyke that bisects the pheasant pen, sending wee rabbits scurrying everywhere. A male blackbird on the other side of the dyke busied itself turning over leaf litter in search of the many creepy crawlies that hide under the dead leaves, its vivid yellow beak and eyelids in complete contrast to its jet black feathers.  A smaller bird caught my eye as it landed on a branch ahead of me. Though I was looking pretty much due south and directly into the sun I could easily see the red tail of the restart. It was a female and, with unostentatious light brown and cream colouring, lacked the grandiose brick-red breast, blue-grey upperparts and black cheeks of the male, but it was still a lovely bird. It flicked its exquisite red tail a few times, then flew into some larch trees just beyond the pen. I sat for a while near where it had been to see if it would return. My patience was rewarded, not by a returning redstart, but by antics of a willow warbler. The bird had flown from the Henhouse Strip to a blackthorn bush some 50 yards outside the wood. It perched in the bush for a minute or two then briefly flew out 10 yards from the bush before returning again to its perch. It did this again, this time flying double the first distance, and back again to the bush. I thought at first I was watching a spotted flycatcher, which flies off a branch in this manner to catch a fly, then returns to its perch. I doubted that a spotted flycatcher would be back in Scotland yet, as it is one of the latest migrants to return. At last when I managed to get a good look at the bird through the binoculars and confirm it was indeed a willow warbler I was satisfied, though I was intrigued by this activity I’d never seen before.

Turning and moving further up the henhouse strip, to the part that is predominantly conifer rather than the birch of the opposite end, I was studying an enormous Douglas fir. Two tiny birds flew from the tree on to the top of the dyke that forms the boundary of the wood. Like the robin and wheatear earlier there was a dispute over something, but the battle continued down the dyke until they were almost beside me. The flurry of activity was rapid, but one perched on top of the dyke long enough for me to see that it was a male goldcrest, the orange strip on the top of its head bounded by black on each side clearly visible, if only fleetingly (the strip would have been yellow had it been a female). The two birds continued their skirmish along the top of the dyke, making contact with each other momentarily before one was again in pursuit of the other. It was a fascinating sight and I can only conclude that both were goldcrests and that one was seeing the other off from its ‘patch’, which I supposed was the Douglas fir. It had been a remarkable day and this was a tremendous finale.

Stubble: Tell me about your bunnies.
Scott: My partner, Lisa, and I got Humphrey* (the gray one) about three and a half years ago, at the start of our senior year of college. It was a pretty spur-of-the-moment decision — we found a flyer that had been posted by a family that was selling three “accidental” bunnies [see above photo — Humphrey is the one on the left]. We decided to get another, Martin* (the black one), two years later, with Humphrey fully grown and not in a position to make any more bunnies, if you know what I mean.

*Despite the traditionally male names, Humphrey and Martin are both lady bunnies. This has been a great source of confusion for friends who don’t know what pronoun to refer to them by. Our current working theory is that it seems more apropos to call “he” or “him” anything with whiskers.

Stubble: What compelled you to want to broadcast your bunnies?
Scott: There’s actually a fairly prominent (~2.5k Facebook likes, >700 Twitter followers) bunny cam that’s been broadcasting since 2005 — Brooklyn Bunny. I was a big fan for a while and probably drew some inspiration from Roebling. I don’t have any intentions of creating a media empire the likes of BB, but I was interested in being able to watch the bunnies while at work (I just rejoined the office world after working from home for about a year and do miss spending time with them during the day).

Stubble: What are the most exciting things viewers of your rabbit cam should watch for?
Scott: To be honest, they’re actually very boring during the day. I’ve been turning on the cam each morning and feeding them at 9 a.m. (ET), and that’s probably the most action that’ll happen on any given day. They’re most active then, when I first let them out in the morning, and at night, after I get home from work. I’ll definitely consider doing some streaming at night, but they get free reign of the living room then and it’ll be much harder to capture their goings-about (they also like to camp out underneath the couch, which is pretty dark).

One thing that I love to educate people on is “binkying,” which is a literal happy dance that rabbits do when they’re in good spirits. If people don’t know about it, it’s a little confusing to see them break into sprints and flail at random (and, actually, the bunnies themselves seem pretty confused after it happens).

One thing that Lisa loves to educate people on are “cecotropes.” I find them sort of embarrassing and disgusting to have to explain (and don’t fully understand why she’s so excited about them), but rabbits produce two types of poops — one that’s just solid waste (round pellets), and one that’s meant to be reconsumed in order to get more nutrients. Rabbits will eat the latter, cecotropes, immediately as they’re producing them. For at least a year, before knowing what it was, we called this the “dive and chew.”

Stubble: Are you worried about internet perverts watching your bunnies while you’re away?
Scott: As long as they don’t know where we live, I don’t care what people get out of watching.

Stubble: Who do you expect actually watches your stream most of the time and what do you think they want to get out of it?
Scott: Given that Ustream shows the number of viewers while on-air, and that it’s usually 2, I can confidently say that the viewership is mostly comprised of Lisa and myself. That said, we have shared with a few friends, family members, and coworkers, and it might be too soon to tell, but I’m pretty sure there are some super-fans in those groups.

If we do happen to reach people who would consider a rabbit as a pet, I hope that it would give them a sense of what it’s like to own and take care of a rabbit, and spur them to do more research. In most states there are organizations that shelter and adopt rabbits — Lisa and I were fairly actively involved with the Minnesota Companion Rabbit Society while we were living there and we encourage seeking out groups like this before making the decision to get a house rabbit.

Stubble: Now that you’re able to watch your rabbits when you’re not home, have you noticed any strange behavior you haven’t seen before?
Scott: I wish I could have discovered that Humphrey and Martin had been Toy Story-ing us for years, but in fact, they’re pretty much the same as when we’re home. Again, they’re actually more active at night than during the day.

Stubble: How did your rabbits handle the move to DC? Do they have any political/social ambitions in town?
Scott: We had driven out to the East Coast with them one other time, so we knew that long car rides weren’t their favorite thing, but we hadn’t been expecting that this trip would actually bring them closer together. Prior to our move in March, we had to keep the two of them in separate cages — Martin was always sweet as could be, but Humphrey would chase and bite him whenever the two were in the same space. For whatever reason, after moving to DC, they started getting along. Humphrey will still occasionally nip, but they can both now eat and sleep in the same cage together, and we even find them snuggling fairly regularly. It’s great.

Stubble: Does DC have as vibrant a rabbit community as the Twin Cities?
Scott: Actually (and sadly), no. The local organization that works with rescue rabbits is the House Rabbit Society of Baltimore, DC, and NoVA (Northern Virginia). They do adoptions, but as far as I know, MCRS is unique in hosting Hoppy Hours — bi-weekly get-togethers for rabbits and their owners from around the Twin Cities. MCRS also offers training classes for Rabbit Agility (basically competitive obstacle courses). We never took Humphrey or Martin to these but heard that they can get pretty cut-throat.

Stubble: Have you ever wanted to be a rabbit?
Scott: They do have it pretty easy. But I would miss a lot of things about being a human. Best of both worlds would be the ability to Animorph into a rabbit when necessary, I guess.

Stubble: Do you have any future schemes that involve your rabbits? Filming a rabbit mini-series or mounting go-pros on them for instance?
Scott: I don’t have any concrete future plans for the bunnies. That said, I’m a pretty tireless documentarian of their activities on Instagram, YouTube, and now Ustream, and I don’t plan on slowing down anytime soon.

Scott Donaldson is a DNC hacker activist and comic book artist living in Our Nation’s Capital

“Going back where?” I had a bit of a feeling what the rabbit might mean. Also that he might not have caught my name yet.

He shook his head out some and distinctly sniffed. “I don’t know that. Wherever it is you came from. A bit of you is fine but you’ve been hanging around this house forever now and I’m sure I’m not the only one who finds you wearing out the welcome.”

This would have been a good chance to rub my eyes except that probably would have got rabbit food pellets in them. “No, no, this is my home. I married into it.”

“Didn’t ask me about that.”

“Well, it’s done and I don’t figure on leaving again.”

He snorted once more and said, “We’ll just have to have a talk about this when the other one gets home.”

I didn’t say anything, as I was pretty sure how the other one would think about me having to leave. The rabbit did try pushing on my ankles, I believe to knock me over, but there’s about a one in six or seven chance of my falling over by accident anyway so I can’t say his efforts were demonstrably more successful than chance dictates.

-Sally Squeeps

Squee! Spotter:
Unknown (via The Daily Bunny)

Tagged: Bunday, bunnies, friendship, ears, squee, rabbits

-Sally Squeeps

Squee! Spotter:
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Tagged: Bunday, bunnies, video games, xbox 360, squee, rabbits

Nothing! In this moment I cannot think of a single squeer thing!

-Sally Squeeps

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charlie00134

Tagged: Bunday, bunnies, Babies, reader squee, squee, rabbits

As children, my brother and I had goldfish first and then we ended up having a budgie that someone could no longer look after. He was blue and had the unlikely name of Appy. After Appy we had Stan (Green) and Ollie (Blue) named after Laurel and Hardy. Stan died and we got Little Stan (also Green).

When Stan died my Mum had picked up my younger brother (then maybe 7) from school and told him. The following conversation apparently went something like this…
Bro: “How are we going to tell Heloise?”
Mum: “I don’t know. It depends what mood she’s in.”
I got home, rang the doorbell and my brother answered it. “What sort of mood are you in?” He asked me.
“Fine,” I said. “Why?”
“The budgie’s dead!”

Then, a number of years later when only one budgie remained, Mum got home to find a small blanket over the budgie cage.
“Why have you covered up the budgie cage?” She asked me.
“I think it’s dead!” I replied.
“Why do you think that?”
“It’s face down in its seed!”

For the last 6 ½ years my husband and I have had two rabbits, Hazel and Saffy. They live in our garage and have a good sized run out there. Last week Saffy stopped eating. When my husband took her to the vet he was told that there was nothing obvious wrong but that this type of bunny lasts for 6-8 years. A couple of mornings later I went out and found her dead. I was fond of her – she was pretty to look at, very gentle and very active. I can’t say I liked seeing her ill or dead – and she was only a bunny.

It brought to mind the two humorous stories from my childhood and made me think how ill-equipped we are to deal with death – even the death of animals. We don’t know how to talk about death or to someone who is grieving. We don’t like to look at death and we try to cover it up so we don’t have to.

This is because originally we were not created to die. Christians believe that death came into the world as a result of sin, because humans rebelled against God and wanted to be in charge of their own lives. Now we have to deal with illness, pain, grief and death – things which were never God’s intention for us.

The good news is that while we can’t help ourselves, God sent Jesus to die for us, to provide a way out of the mess, a way back to a right relationship with God again and a way forward to a place where “There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain”. (Revelation 21vs4)

We mind about death and God minds too. Not even a sparrow falls to the ground without God knowing… “So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” (Matthew 10vs31)

6 Weeks:  18.69lbs

5 Weeks: 13.65lbs

4 Weeks: 8lbs 10oz

3 Weeks:  5lbs 3/4 oz

They are now officially all out from Big Momma, and eating/growing on their own.  The largest one is one of the 2 does, clocking in at 2lbs 8 5/8oz.  Pretty good, I’d say! As a group, they gained more than half a pound apiece over the last week.

As for Little Mama, her 7 kits are doing very well also. (Day 3 now, technically) I can’t get over how full their tummies are.  (You’ll see in the picture, it looks like they’re going to burst)  She had them mostly uncovered yesterday while it was warm out, and when I went out this morning – she had covered them completely under a nice mound of fur for the night.

One of the new kits this morning.  Big, full bellies!  And they’re starting to get just a tiny little bit of that white fuzz.

These are the boys, enjoying their bachelor pad.

Here is one of Piper’s kits at 2 days old. I can see that it has already grown just since yesterday. I only had it out for a minute. It really wanted to go back to its litter mates. I checked over each one and they all had round little tummies. They really are a little miracle. Piper didn’t even need to be bribed today for me to take out the kits, but she did check them over good when I put them back in the cage.

Things around here seldom go as planned and it took a couple days longer to get the PVC hutch frame built, but it is…well, not done, but usable and we will be able to add another level to it as well as build on to either end when we are ready to do so and the big box store gets in more pipe, because we pretty much wiped them out. This first pic shows the diagonal cross bracing on the ends to give it more stability.

Most of the ones we looked at online didn’t have any cross bracing, not even on the bottom. They just had the pipe going straight into the ground. Here is a full view of the frame. That chicken is Georgie in the background exploring the new cages.

And with the cages in place.

Here it all is in place in the shed with some very delighted bunnies in their new 30″ by 30″ cages. That is Lola who looks like she is floating in mid-air. She was mid-jump when the camera clicked. They are 13 weeks old today.

They are so happy to have the space. They were running in circles, leaping into the air, doing flips, and jumping over each other. It is amazing how just a couple more square feet of space excited them. The cages aren’t as tall as the other ones, but there is way more floor space. Of course, then they all curled up into a pile to go to sleep in one corner.

The eight week olds are doing well. They seem to like being outside. I had to pull the tarp partway over the front of the cage as it had just started raining and it is supposed to rain hard tonight. I left about six inches at the bottom so that they still had fresh air and a bit of the fading light. They are very friendly and not afraid of us at all.

I did a headcount yesterday and realized we currently have 19 rabbits. Of course seven of those are newborns and five of those are going to be butchered in a bit. We will really only have 7 rabbits “on staff” so to speak, with various numbers growing out at any given time.

Big Momma (my proven doe) is down to just one kit left in the cage with her.  I left one in there just in case the other doe had milk issues.   All of her kits are growing, and growing fast.  Official weigh-in day is tomorrow, but I can tell you that they’re all over 2lbs.  One is almost 2.5lbs, and they’re 6 weeks tomorrow.  I’m very happy with that rate of growth, and growth rate will be a primary thing I select for with future breeding.

Now..for the pictures!

One of the baby does.  She’ll be 6 weeks tomorrow – and already 2lbs 7oz.  I’m going to use this little box for growth comparison, plus it sits nicely on the scale.

One of the kits that was born yesterday.  A little over 2oz (though I won’t be able to weigh the same kit every time, so the weight will just be an idea of growth).  Pretty amazing to realize that it only takes 5 weeks to go from this to the picture above!

The two baby does being adorable.  They have the highest chance of sticking around, as I do want to expand the number of adult buns we have to 6.  Of course, if we end up overrun with rabbit in the freezer, I might reconsider scaling it back to 4 or 5.