Category: Bunnies

I have lived with her for a few weeks now, and appearances do not deceive. She really is that cute.

Check out the rest of the pics if you don’t believe me.

Here.

Thanks to Amy of Knitty, I found this link on her blog.

I’ve set the image as the wallpaper on my macbook, and have been looking closer at it – some of the bunnies are entirely not safe for work, but such a marvllous image.

Check it out

Mum and Dad just got back from a month in Vietnam. I am close to my parents, and I missed them dreadfully while they were away. I popped in to see them on saturday arvo, and mum told me of a dream that dad had while they were away. In his dream, dad was expected to come to visit Mark and I, but he didn’t want to come, because he knew that Rhubarb wouldn’t be here to greet him.

Dad isn’t an “animal person”, and neither is mum really, but they both instilled in me a respect for life, and the understanding that ability comes with responsibility. If you can, then you should. And if somebody relies on you utterly, then to betray that responsibility is a dire thing indeed.

As a child, it took me a long time to understand that lesson, but now I think it is the overriding principle of my life.

Many have forgotten this truth, but you must not forget it. You remain responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.
— Antoine De Saint-Exupery

We buried Rhubarb today. He was long gone, but his little body needed a place to go, so we buried him next to Fuzz Bucket in my parents garden. Mum and Dad picked him up from the vet on friday (Mum paid for the entire vet bill, nearly $300), and the lovely Jane came across town to say a final goodbye.

This is what I wrote to say at his graveside.

Rhubarb never lived a moment in fear, never doubted himself, never had a moment of insecurity, never troubled himself over something he couldn’t control. He lived every moment of his life with vitality, joy, and love. He was a rabbit who knew how to enjoy himself, who knew how to celebrate life, and knew how to fully relax after a hard day of adventuring. He never met a treat jar he couldn’t open, a parsley plant he couldn’t devour, or a human whose heart he couldn’t melt – even the ones he bit.

Rhubarb has taught me many things, most of all that life needs to be tasted, and savoured, explored and devoured. A life lived in fear is a life not properly lived. Rhubarb came into my life at a time of great sadness, two days after losing Fuzz Bucket, my heart bunny, to cancer. Instantly there was joy in my home again, Rhu would never replace Fuzz Bucket in my heart but it took him very little time to carve out his own place, and make himself at home.

On being introduced to his new condo, he did a quick lap, and settled down comfortably in what had been Fuzz Bucket’s favourite place to relax. Custard, on the other hand, took a little while to understand and appreciate his charms. Rhubarb was once seen in his outside exercise pen sitting calmly in the middle of a whirlwind of activity – Custard running laps around him as he washed himself. Each time Custard would slow down to catch a breath, Rhu would lunge out to nip him, and the dervish would begin again. Sooner or later though, as the hormones died down after his neutering, Rhubarb decided that he didn’t mind Custard being the boss bunny. He was much happier relaxing and enjoying life, rather than struggling to be on top of the rat race. He was stoic whenever Custard needed to assert his dominance with an energetic humping session.

Soon they were best buddies, and would be seen on the webcam lying side by side as the sun traced it’s arc across the sky. Grasshopper would be a few feet away, not wanting to intrude on the cool kids, but not wanting to be left out either.

From the day I met him, till the day he died in my arms, I dreaded losing him. His was such a vital spirit, that his absence is felt very keenly. Our large house seems empty and barren because it is missing not just 2 kilos of rabbit, but a vibrant and passionate spirit, whose loss I will feel to the end of my days.

If you have a rabbit in your life, you know the joy I speak of, and you will also, one day, know the pain. And the more joy they give us, the sharper the pain we feel when they leave. Pain in some way, defines the love we have shared.

Rabbits are interesting pets. They can be affectionate and loyal like a dog, or just use you for body heat and food, like a cat. They can ignore you completely, or follow you around the house, and spring into your lap if they think you are hiding the sultanas in the TV remote. They can be affectionate, and sneaky, clever, and silly. They play, they snuggle, they bounce with joy, and they wrap their furry paws around a heart like you wouldn’t believe if you never lived with one. Of course, you need to share your space with a desexed rabbit – it doesn’t count if you keep them outside and visit them once a day, you need to LIVE with them to gain their trust, and nothing beats gaining the trust of an animal that is everyones food. The trust of a prey species is a rare and precious thing.
But once you get to the point where they trust you, a funny thing can happen. Sometimes, the little buggers get the power relationship all messed up. Sometimes, they come to think of themselves as the supreme ruler of the universe, and you are the pet.
All rabbits are individuals, and breed does not denote temperament, but there are some common threads I have noted, ie. Rex bunnies seem to have this “I am the centre of the universe” thing very close to the surface. My first bun, Fuzz Bucket was a Rex, Rhubarb was a Rex, and so is this bun in the picture.

Original post here