Friday, May 22, 2009

The dangers of vinyl flooring when you're a rabbit.

Sage, for the most part, likes the vinyl floors. When they were put in, not only did the artic breezes go away but she could go barrelling down the hallway and plant her butt down and go skidding through the kitchen and into the living room. Seen Thumper on ice watching Bambi? You've seen Sage on the vinyl.

Scout was never much for it, I think her hips bothered her and hopping on the vinyl required more muscle effort than was comfortable for her. But Sage, most of the time, doesn't treat it any different than carpet.

Today however proved the cruelness of the human heart. You see, she, for whatever reason was in a very good mood today. Bunnies who are happy run around and toss their heads and wiggle their bums. Very happy bunnies jump in the air, shake their hindquarters and do a bee in the ear head shake. So, this morning Sage bounced through the house and in one of her bouncing, rambuctious, runs through the kitchen she decided to binky. The problem really here is with the principal of what goes up, must come down. And binkying bunny met slick floor and feet went every which way on contact and she scrambled and bounced off her side and back up again.

I got glared at royally. This may have something to do with the peels of laughter coming from my direction, I'm not quite sure. Poor abused bunny.

The progression of mourning.

Sage spent most of Monday moping in the cage. I picked her up at one point to give her a snuggle and we sat on the EZ-Chair together. She gave me a couple of nose bonks but when I put her down on the floor she immediately went back to the cage. Maybe she was happy to have the scent of Scout, I'm not sure. Everywhere else in the house had certainly been descented for my last showing.

I really wasn't up to spending time in the house alone. Wonda, being the pal she is, invited me out to the park with her and her son. We had a good long talk and I got hugs and I will admit I certainly felt less hollow with humans around me.

My Mum called for the fourth time in twenty-four hours, probably still quite worried about me since she knew well what Scout meant to me. She said I should come spend time at their place. It sounded like a pretty good idea to me, I'd had a darn hard time sleeping Sunday night without a little fuzzball under my chin. I'd dug "Dog" out of storage, a long sausage plush toy of a dog that I'd chosen on my six or seventh birthday. He'd been the same size as me at the time. But even sleeping with him didn't help much. Sage had slept near me, unusual, but understandable.

My parents being the wonderful people they are let me deplete their cookie supply, fed me dinner and let me mooch their wifi.

What was amusing and touching, to me anyway, was one of my Mum's ex-coworkers had phoned her. I'm not sure I was supposed to overhear the conversation, but I think my Mum forgets how good my hearing is at the best of times. She who grew up in N. Ireland hunting rabbits for dinner, explained to the other lady on the phone how special Scout was and how much she meant to me. How Scout had found me, and all that Scout did for me and she wasn't shocked I was grieving.

I watched a lot of NCIS in Scout's memory before going to bed since the History channel was having a marathon.

Tuesday morning brought breakfast with the parents. I am not supposed to eat fat since it has bad results at the other end of my digestive system. How ugly entirely depends on how much I eat. Being a cookie addict this is a balancing act between how crappy (no pun intended) do I feel versus what do I want to eat. My brother, by the by, calls cookies 'Little puddles of yummy fat.' So, being the sensible creature I am, had a nice fatty breakfast which included breakfast sausage. Yum! I'm generally okay if I don't mix bread products with my fat. And by okay I mean, I can still walk and talk and don't want to spend the day on my bathroom floor cursing my lack of willpower.

Mum then took me shopping. Mum whose budget is as limited, if not more so, than mine, insisted on spending entirely too much money on me. Watching my various friends with their kids, I know this is definitely a mother thing. Heck, I know I went without to buy hay and things for the furballs and they're not even from my womb or able to talk.

Then it was time to go home and bring Scout's body into the vet. Dr M is so awesome, not only was his price for cremation incredibly reasonable but he agreed to let me pay him at the end of the month when I get my disability cheque. I gave a quick and poor explanation of Scout's death, not really wanting to relive it. I can type stories and relay information without really thinking or processing, but to talk I need to think about what I'm saying or I trip over my own words. You can always tell when I'm not thinking about what I'm saying.

Sage had adventured beyond the cage a little, but she was still pretty mopey. She seemed to have accepted Scout was gone, but she didn't seem to know what to do with herself.

Wednesday was like a switch had been turned in Sage. She seemed to realize that the whole house was now her's and she could run around it as much as she liked. Maybe she accepted Scout's passing, or maybe it was just I was in a better frame. She flomped out in the spare bedroom and threatened to chew the wood bedside table whenever I came too close.

Sage likes kids, Sage likes vegetarians, Sage *puts up* with me. She is using the litterbox 100% and there's no territorial poops anywhere. They're just dried pebbles, but they still need to be swept up every morning .. or when the not-related-sister-bunnies were pissed off at each other, several times a day. I tried to tell Sage I should have kept Scout as an only bunny and saved myself a lot of housework, but she just gave me the ear.

She hopped up onto the bed a couple times through the night to give me a nudge and then hop off. I'm not sure if she was reassuring me she was still around or if she was checking the supplier of hay and treats was still alive. I'm sure I'm doing her a disservice in thinking its only one or the other.

Thursday Sage spent a great deal of time in the spare bedroom loafing beside the closet. I'm not sure why that spot. Scout didn't ever really hang out there and neither has Sage previous to today. Normally the spot of choice was at the end of the bed or under the bedside table. She still snuck back into the front room to use her litterbox, and was most offended if I dared notice her presence as she snuck across the room. Humans are just so clueless.

She was even less impressed when she got snuggled when she didn't hop out of my way fast enough. That's the price she has to pay for being so darn cute. She spent a good fifteen minutes trying to groom the human cooties off after.

Poor thing, so desperate for company she's lying on the couch with me. I'm sure her good sense will return soon enough!

Monday, May 18, 2009

Goodbye Scout.

Scout came into my life when I was going through a depression that seemed to have no end. A lot of little things and a few not so little things all piled up and I was wondering what the point of it all was. Here I come home one day to find dogs trying to get at this very silly looking bunny that was trying to hide under my steps. I chased off the dogs and told the bunny she was free. The bunny seemed to think I was the perfect sucker to adopt and let me pick her up and carry her inside when it became apparent this bunny wasn’t going anywhere. The fact I went back out into the pouring rain to go to Petcetra to get a cage and food and everything else bunny related pretty much sums up the relationship that would established for the next three and a half years. There was never a doubt of who was the boss in the relationship, and it was certainly the two pound bunny who just had to curl up under my chin and give me a lick to get whatever she wanted.

As I found other bunnies in various states of health in the area I started investigating and getting animal conservation investigating. Lots of loose bunnies could lead to cougar and coyote problems in residential areas after all. It was revealed Scout came from a home where she was kept in a metal hutch, sheet metal at that, year round. She was fed on kitchen leavings and had a bottle for water that leaked. She was a breeding bunny as a pretty agouti brown ND/Lionhead cross. She was released, or escaped, when she started to attack the male bunnies. This is a trait she kept with her all her life. She was four’ish when she entered my life. I remember getting her exact birthdate, but Laura T. is probably the only one who remembers it. She did celebrate her seventh birthday last year and was approaching her eighth, which is a darn good age for a bunny that had one crappy life for most of her life.

She loved bacon. The only time Scout ever nipped me was when I was standing in the kitchen eating a McD’s egg/bacon McMuffin. I dropped it, she grabbed the bacon and she ran. She also had a thing for Stews and chunky soups. I shared more than one bowel with a sneaky rabbit. Thunk, spoon hits bunny head. The words “Do you have any concept what vegetarian means??” were asked of her more than once. Bunny food, she’d insist, is whatever the bunny wants to eat.

It’s been a darn good weekend. I spent time with a good friend, talked to other good friends, spent time with family, met new people and had a heck of a lot of fun. Maybe my little bunny angel thought I’d be okay with out her. She’s been very sick over the years. Two bouts of stasis.. one where she didn’t eat on her own for close to two weeks. I fed her for ten days, not knowing for the first several the danger in bunny not eating. A plethora of other problems. The latest was a really serious middle ear infection that had her tracking, twitching, her back legs not working and basically not knowing which way was up. She went in to Dr M. and got treatment and his estimates weren’t fantastic, but Scout had surprised us before.

This evening at around 9:30pm I saw her in the cage, lying on her side, half in and half out of their hidey, not really moving. I had brought over some hay and she didn’t even twitch in my direction. I picked her up and she was tracking again. She was trying to get her legs coordinated but they weren’t coordinating. I sat with her on the ground for a while, and she seemed happy to sit in my lap which is unusual. Normally she wants to be cuddled under my chin or just to lie beside me while I pet her. I think the crossed legs make her feel trapped. So, I carried her to the couch and we sat down there. She curled up under my chin and watched some NCIS with me. I think we both really knew the end was soon. Her breathing slowly got shallower and shallower and finally she let out almost a surprised meep and went limp.

Once I was capable of standing I took her over to Sage and Sage thumped and ran to hide in the igloo. Sage has never set paw in that igloo before; it’s Scout’s place. She’s circling the cage, refusing to leave it. She just keeps going in and out of the igloo. Boy, do I know how she feels. The house suddenly feels very empty without my little ferocious furball who kept me well under paw. Sage is going to have some pretty big pawprints to try and fill.. well, metaphorically speaking.

Me, I’m already feeling quite at loose ends.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Scout and Star Trek

We're going to overlook that the disabled lady pirated Star Trek (2009). No excuses, I wanted to see it and didn't have the financial ability to do so until the end of the month. Twenty dollars in gas, the ticket, beyond my means at the moment. Does it make it right? Hell no. I actually considered buying an online ticket at my local theatre to balance my viewing it illegally. Would that make it right? I don't know. But, it does mean I get a bunny blog post!

Scout is in love with Mark Harmon, aka Jethro Gibbs. I thought her little bunny head was going to explode in happiness the day that I watched him on West Wing and then on NCIS. And who can blame her? He's one delicious hunk of man if you happen to like the tall, two legged and furless variety. Now, chances are it's just his voice she likes for whatever reason, but whenever he talks whether it is laptop or TV, she sits up on her back paws, ears tuned to the source, and sits perfectly still until the scene with Mr Harmon is over. She then goes right back to what she was doing.

Sage has only reacted to the TV a few times and that's when Johnny Depp has been a pirate captain of hunky proportions. What can I say? My bunny girls are excellent judges of hearthrobs. When the evil English officer threatened Captain Sparrow, Sage actually boxed the screen in anger. If Mr Depp ever needs a furry bodyguard, Sage would work happily for him in exchange for snuggles and papaya tablets. Heck, I'd work for him for snuggles and papaya tablets..

Anyway. Last night I watched the new Star Trek movie. Sage was unimpressed with the action scenes and muttered a lot. She flipped her ears around and was cranky, especially at the phasor fire. At one point she thumped and turned her back on us. Scout, however, sat periscoped until I picked her up and put her on the couch with me. (She still hasn't started jumping post middle ear infection) She sat and watched the entire movie with me. She seemed interested the most when Karl Urban (aka Leonard McCoy) was talking, but the end credits made her cheep. Or maybe that was her human Mum sniffling.

Would it be equally wrong to download all the TOS episodes to see if my bunny is a Trekkie or just a fan of good movies?

Monday, May 11, 2009

Mother's Day

On the the fourth mother's day, my bunnies gave to me.. The same thing as every year before, attitude. As gifts go, it really isn't a bad one. Its a gift that says "We're happy and we're healthy." I find Sage in particular is only really affectionate when one of us is ill or injured; typically me.

My parents came round to pick up the automatic window switch for my Sidekick that isn't automaticing. Somehow on Mother's Day my mother ended up mowing my lawn while my Dad weedwacked it. All I did was try and keep Sage out of trouble while she got her romp in the yard for the first time in days. I couldn't find where I'd stashed her leash before my last showing and didn't find it again until this afternoon. In the crockpot, where else would I have put it? The sad thing is, I checked the rice cooker more than once in my multitude of searches.

Sage wasn't much up for hopping. I'm not sure if it was all the people around, the strange noises in HER yard, or just if it was a lazy bunny day. I tried again in the evening when it was once more just the two of us, but all she wanted to do was lie on the grass. Fine with me, I watched hummingbirds for half an hour until my butt was sore from sitting on the ground and my leg was starting to twitch. I said if she wasn't going to hop, I was going inside. Since I'm a big meanie, she has to come inside when I do. Sage may be a big tough bunny as bunnies go, but she's still a prey animal, I don't let her out of my grab range.

Most of the doggies around here are used to me smelling of rabbit, used to seeing her and mixes there in between, but still, why press my luck? I want her around to give me attitude again next Mother's day.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Sympathy from the devil bunny.

It was a busy day today between offers on my house, first day of voting and investigating a big toe that was turning more and more purple. Strangely, the more purple it turns the less it hurts. Maybe it'll fall off soon..

Anyway, so I was medicating Scout hours after she was due for her medication. She probably thought I'd forgotten and she didn't have to act like a screaming dervish for ten minutes. I do know how it tires her so to act like I'm pulling her whiskers out and dabbing them with salt. She was doing her bucking bronco routine of 'That stuff is yucky!' before she tastes it when Sage came around to investigate.

I was sitting cross-legged on the ground, Scout was sitting on the top of the cage. Well, sitting insinuates some sort of pacification, but lets just pretend for a moment. Sage was sniffing at my foot. "Please don't nudge my foot Sage," I whimper. There's not a whole lot of room for me to move the injured party out of the reach of curious bunnies.

She sniffs. I wince. She sniffs. I wince. She then licks my toe. While I appreciated the sympathy, it tickled, so I jerked away and slammed my knee into the cage. "Son of a..!" I yelped, while Scout thumped and Sage followed suit by thumping and running away. She stopped at the far side of the kitchen to give me [b]looks[/b]. "I was [b]trying[/b] to be nice Mom!" and "OMG, you're so mean to me!" and let's not forget "You don't understand me at all!" If there's a martyred teenager look, I got it from Sage. The sad thing was, for a change she was almost in the right.

I apologized and offered her half a papaya tablet. She sniffed at me, sniffed at it, twitched her ears about as she thought about it and finally took it from me as if granting me a great favour.

She's just so patient and tolerant with me..

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Which holiday is it?

As near as I can tell not only is today Cinco De Mayo, Scrapbook club day and a few other things, it’s also international Tim Hortons day. That’s the only explanation I can come up with for the hoardes of people in all the Tim Hortons I visited today.

Today was another mad cleaning day since I had a house showing at 1600. You could colour Scout and Sage all kinds of ‘unimpressed’ as they were evicted from their cage that they were napping in for it to be cleaned. They sit and thumped at me every so often to make sure I knew how much they didn’t like my changing the scent and contents of their cage. I’m sure they’d be the first to tell you that every time they get their home smelling just the way they like it I go and change it. I’m a very inconsiderate person, you know. I tossed them and their toys back in the cage before moving on else where.

Elsewhere included the DIY project of cleaning the aertor in the bathroom tap that had resulted in a small pond in the bathroom. I got that fixed and supervisor Sage decided that I couldn’t be trusted after that and followed me around the house to make sure that I didn’t remove ALL the bunny hair. I’m not sure what she was worried about, we all know fifty years from now the house will have fallen down but the bunny fur will remain. Scout and Sage are very happy to help their dust bunny cousins’ colonies grow at any and all opportunities, they’re very giving that way.

They were even less impressed when they get shoved in the cage and the door closed behind them and I abandoned them to go mow the lawn in the brief period of sunshine we saw. All those dandelions who faced death and not at the hands of bunny teeth.. to mix images. The poor abused lagomorphs did get a couple of plants and a handful of flowers, but still, I’m a heartless cruel human to let all those precious yellow flowers be decapitated to lie in the sun uneaten.

I’m sure when I get home I’ll face the wrath of two bunnies who were locked up for an hour. How dare I do such things to them?

It’s a good thing I’m cute.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Sage says "Thump!"

I was late to bed last night and up early. This isn't a particularly unusual occurrence. What WAS unusual was Sage was sitting by the front door at 0900 with an expectant look on her face. "Ferget it rabbit." I say as I stumble into the kitchen to make tea.

She didn't make a fuss, she just turned to watch me. I put on the kettle and prepped Scout's medication. In most households the two would have nothing to do with each other but if I'm going to be wrestling a two pound rabbit turned ninja Tasmanian devil, I need tea. I did have a slight twinge of conscience that the medication was ready before me or the tea, so I sat at the kitchen table and marveled in the fact my mother would never believe I used the table for something other than storing things on top of or abusing bunnies. (Abuse in their minds, anyway.)

The kettle finally whistled, I made tea, I had a mouthful and went to wrestle with Scout. Today she decided that what she normally things is yummy banana is poison and fought me every step of the way. You'd think I was trying to shove thorns into her mouth. When I was finally done, she sat and licked her chops and then tried to lick the now empty oral syringe. "All gone" I said. She gave me the look of 'Who said you could run out?' It's a good thing bunnies aren't like fifteen year old teenage girls..

Speaking of which, it was about then Sage thumped at the front door to remind me she was there. She was waiting patiently. "I need a shower. I need to finish my tea. I need.." I could have said both legs had fallen off and I wasn't able to walk, it didn't matter, the bunny wanted a walk. I hear you can occasionally reason with a dog who wants a walk, not this rabbit. She just continued to stare at me and sit at the front door.

So I finished my tea. I got dressed. I did my morning blog read and email troll. (I still haven't read today's webcomics.) Sage remained by the front door staring at me. I finally said "Okay already!" and got up and got her harness and leash. I got her settled in and she only made mild faces of 'Die human!' when the harness went over her ears. I then opened the door. She stuck her nose out, thumped, and turned tail and ran for the bedroom.

Apparently it's not warm/sunny/puddly/who-knows-what enough for the rabbit and it's all my fault. She spent the rest of the morning thumping at me every time I walked past.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Bunnies can tell time.

Many think me insane when I say rabbits can tell time, but I assure you they can. No, I don't mean they hide pocket watches in their waist coats or that they stare at the clock on the wall, but they seem to have a very accurate time sense.

For example, if I were to feed my rabbits every morning at 0700 for a week and then on day eight not feed them at 0730, there would be rattles, thumps and thrown dishes coming. Nevermind that may still have hay and pellets, it's the principal of the matter. They get fed at 0700, I should be there feeding them darnit.

Fortunately, for me, the only real thing I do on an accurate schedule is medication. They tend to get fresh food and hay in the morning when I wake up, but I wake up anywhere between 0430 and 0700. They get fresh water before I go to bed, which can be anywhere from an optimistic 2200 to 0330. But medication, when one of them needs it, is done on a fairly accurate schedule. I prefer once a day medications since I just have to remember one time.

Scout is currently on antibiotics for her inner ear infection. She's still not her usual hoppy self, but she's hanging in there and standing up to Sage once more. She has good days, she has bad days but for the most part I'd say she's doing pretty good for a seven and a half year old rabbit. This morning I was talking to a neighbour at 1000, so she didn't get her meds right away. Normally, at 0950 she dives into the igloo and hides there until I bribe her out. I don't think she minds the banana flavoured meds so much as she does being picked up. If I put the syringe in her mouth, she'll suck on it.

This morning she didn't get treated until almost 1020. I approached and she thumped at me and made a run for it. "Stinky human! Not only picking me up but doing it LATE." She then expressed her opinion. Unfortunately for her, she hit the hay rather than me.

She's a very forgiving and patient bunny, she let me make it up to her with a couple dandelion flowers.