Bunny Honeymoon and Banana Butt

Is the bunny honeymoon over?  Maybe, if you set store by such things.  There has been a deepening of the relationship, a maturation, a recognition that each other aren’t perfect but that love abides.  Also, there has been a shift in the couple’s power dynamic.

I noticed yesterday evening that Gizmo seemed unusually reticent at feeding time.  I was prepping their veggies (parsley, kale, carrot tops, romaine lettuce) from the local farmer’s market, but he wasn’t at the doorway watching me in anticipation.  While I do veggie prep, I give a small section of carrot to each bun.  Knowing this pattern, the buns hang out in the doorway waiting for their appetizer, dancing around each other and making sure the other hadn’t taken all the goodies.  Today Pippin waited in the doorway but Gizmo hung back politely.  What was going on with these guys?  Was Gizmo learning manners from his new girlfriend?  Was this some sort of gentlemanly deference?

As I approached with carrots in hand, Pippin carefully took her piece and trotted across to the other side of the room like a dog with a bone.  She is the first rabbit I’ve known who likes to carry things around and deposit them in other places.  This is great fun when it’s her toys, not so great when it’s my keys or the TV remote.  Gizmo then moved forward and took his piece.  He is so overwhelmed by the taste of carrot, he will not move or be distracted, eating the carrot right where it has been dropped.  If the house was on fire, Giz would finish his carrot before bothering to check for safe egress.  My husband has literally picked Gizmo up and held him like a baby, tummy up, while he fed him a carrot like a bottle.  This is the rabbit who really doesn’t like to be picked up and will avoid you like the plague for a month after an attempted pick up event.  I guess some things are worth a little humiliation when you are a bunny. 

Giz also puts on an amazing display of “banana butt” while he chows down.  Banana butt is a relatively new term for me, referring to the phenomenon where a rabbit will shake its butt in happiness when given a most desired treat (usually banana, which is bunny crack).  Not all buns will do it.  I saw a YouTube video of the behavior and finally accepted it as real, as none of my buns had ever done it in the past, even for a banana treat.  There it was, a happy bunny with a rump wiggle!  Giz was so much smaller that it was difficult to see it happen, especially with his long coat, but it was there.  We had a good laugh over that, it was so cute!

In the midst of his carrot foodgasm, Pippin loped over from where she had finished her appetizer and proceeded to snatch Gizmo’s remaining carrot away.  There was a small protest, a trying to grab back some of the treat, and then BOOM... Gizmo was getting humped into submission.  No joke.  My tiny mini-lop was getting schooled by my gigantic French lop.  She literally enveloped him.  I stood by in case I needed to intervene.  After it was judged that enough justice had been dispensed, she took off with the carrot piece.  Gizmo sat dazed and confused for a few minutes, mourning the loss of his food and trying to smooth down his rumpled fur.  Well, well then.  The pants of the family had somehow been exchanged while I wasn’t looking.  The love fest was over, and Pippin had come out on top of the food chain.

A little while later the couple was camped out on the rug grooming each other as if nothing had happened.  The honeymoon may be over, but the bunny love remains.

Lonely in Bunnytown

As happy as we've been with our little bunny Gizmo, I couldn't help but notice that he didn't have company for large stretches of the day.  Sometimes I'd be out of town for work, sometimes I'd be busy, but whatever the reason he seemed a tad lonely.  Ever the problem-solver, my subconscious started processing the issue.

A few days later, I was cruising the animal shelter sites online to see if any female bunnies had been dropped off.  Was I in for a shock!  There were so many bunnies needing new homes, they couldn't handle them all.  In fact, some loving folks had seen this problem going on for so long that they independently opened rabbit rescues and shelters to take the overflow and prevent the buns from being euthanized.  That's a serious commitment!  

Slowly the idea grew in my head that we should do some volunteering at the shelters.  So for a few weekends my family and I drove 40 miles to the closest shelter and tried to help out.  We cleaned runs, mopped floors, chopped veggies, socialized with shy buns, groomed them, exercised them, you name it.  It was fun, and four hours went by in a blink.  We didn't realize how exhausted we were until we were finished.  We met so many great rabbits.  There was Kevin, who was a Flemish Giant with an inner ear problem, and couldn't keep his balance all the time.  He was friendly, clumsy, sweet and goofy.  My son loved him, but we were really looking for a female.  There was a tiny black New Zealand rabbit who loved being picked up and wanted to be petted.  There was a litter of black and white spotted buns who loved being together and so wouldn't be sold separately – they were the Magnificent Seven.  I thought they looked like the world's cutest dominoes.  There were giant rabbit breeds and tiny breeds, lots of fuzzy heads to pet, but no one that seemed right for Giz.

I decided to try the other local shelter, and there was Josie!  She was an elegant chocolate colored Rex who seemed to like us.  She was a little younger than Giz, but about the same size.  So the next weekend we brought Gizmo to the shelter to be boarded and socialized with Josie.  We waited on pins and needles to hear about their progress.  Finally after 3 days I called to get the scoop.  Nobody was friends, and they might actually dislike each other.  Awww.  The head of the shelter wanted to keep trying, so we let her.  Then on the 8^th day she emailed us to let us know it wasn't going to work out.  Josie had growled at Giz and wasn't having any of him in the playpen that morning. 

I was disappointed, but I knew that we couldn't force anything.  I'd rather have happy bonded bunnies than unhappy fighting ones.  After all, if someone put me in a pen with a strange guy, I don't know that I'd do anything differently.  So we thought some more, and asked her to try to bond Giz with a laid-back rabbit named Pipin we had also noticed.  The reason she was not our first choice – she was huge!  She was a French Lop the size of large cat.  We were afraid if she accidentally sat on little Gizmo, she would flatten him into an actual bunny pancake.  But she was so sweet, we had to give her a chance.

Well, it was love at first sight for Gizmo.  He groomed her, feted her, sang bunny love songs to her (buzzing/honking), everything except buying a diamond ring (which he might have if my left my debit card unattended).   And Pipin?  She accepted it all graciously, not quite sure what all the fuss was about.  She groomed Gizmo in return and sat calmly while he kicked up his heels and made a fool of himself for her.  I told Sandi the owner that this was it, we couldn't ask for a better result.  We would adopt Pipin, Gizmo's plus-sized girlfriend.

Wabbits Wuv Tweats!

Being owned by a pet can bring up deep-seated psychological issues!  For example, if you have been raised by a feeder family, you will have emotional attachments to all sorts of foods.  You will link food to comfort, to love, and to spoiling loved ones! 

The best spoiling comes from treats.  I should know.  I'm a recovering treataholic.  If we are at the mall and stroll by the chocolate shop, I am drawn in there like a wire filament to a MRI.  Just try and stop me, it's like trying to mess with the awesome power of nature.  Though I am healthier now, I can still treat myself to one piece of melty, high-quality chocolatey goodness once in a while. 

Enter Gizmo, the first pet I have had in a long time with a dedicated, no, an obsessive sweet tooth!  If he were a human pal, we would ruin each other's waistlines with trips to get ice cream, cookies, pastries, you name it.  We would be the worst kind of enablers for each other, and Weight Watchers would ban us for being bad influences.  Thank goodness he's a bunny and he doesn't know how to use a debit card (yet).  But I have seen him longingly watch smoothie and fresh fruit commercials, and I know the signs of unhealthy obsession when I see it. 

Bunnies are crafty.  To earn treats, Gizmo has a host of tricks he will do.  But after four or five heavenly sweet golden raisins given for circle turns and pushing a ball with his nose, it's time to clamp down on the treat jar.  Too many sweets can upset the balance in a rabbit's tummy, resulting in the runs (not the good kind) and even possibly death (the worst kind). 

My husband once told me about a squirrel who got into their dorm room, panicked when it couldn't get out, and ran hurly-burly over every surface leaving squirrel poo.  This is what I imagine over-treating Gizmo would result in.  So we shower him with extra petting instead.

Despite our best plans, the bun does his best to sneak extra treats.  I call it the SSDD trick, or Same Snack, Different Dope.  Here's how it goes down:  I have played with Giz, given him treats, and am now busy in the laundry room.  My son comes downstairs to watch TV, plays with the bun, and is hit up with Bunny Begging Act I.  Didn't Gizmo get his treat today?  No?  Are you sure?  Gizmo is acting like he hasn't had a treat in a week, let alone today.  He is putting his paws up on my son's leg, looking adorable, head cocked to the side, big brown eyes pleading.  Before I can say "don't give Giz any more treats", another raisin is making its way past his lips. 

When my husband comes downstairs with some popcorn, it's BB Act II.  Just try to eat popcorn without giving any to Gizmo!  He is all over that like white on rice.  Once he jumped from he floor all the way into the popcorn bowl on the couch!  Cowabunga!  Foof!  Popcorn everywhere!  (If it had been during Big Shed time, we would have been pulling fuzz out of our teeth for weeks.  There is no way we would let great popcorn go to waste.)  Luckily for me we are stocked up on healthy bunny treats, like carrot slices, parsley and freeze dried strawberries. 

Yes, in Gizmo's world, if you have food it's meant to be shared. 

Who's Grooming Who? The Honor of Being Designated Petter

When I am called out of town for work, I know I am going to miss out on our evening bunny social time and fuzz therapy.  It makes me wistful, especially since I am the Designated Petter.  I am the first in line in our bunny social hierarchy, after Emperor Gizmo himself. 

Rabbits have complicated social structures, with a Top Bun who commands everyone's respect and layers of other buns in the pecking order below.  If you have ever read Watership Down, you know that Richard Adams had observed a few rabbits in his day, and he gave good examples of rabbit behavior.  In the bunny world, it's all about Who's Grooming Who.  He who gets the grooming has the power.  The Top Bun gets groomed by everyone, but rarely bestows grooming.  After myself, it is a close tie between my husband and son as to who is preferred for getting petting.

After adopting Gizmo, I knew I had his love when after a few weeks he began to give me little licks occasionally.  Of course, all this time I had been petting him like crazy, but it was nice to be recognized for my efforts at last.  A few licks turned into nuzzling, then clothes grooming.  What is clothes grooming?  For whatever reason, bunnies can't stand wrinkles in your clothes.  They will nip, lick and nibble wrinkles and seams to get them out.  I suppose this is just like behavior in the wild, when they get burrs and bits out of each other's fur.  Indoor rabbits seem to have adapted this to people.  This is very sweet, but it is hard to dissuade a bunny who is certain that your jeans will be much better off without that troublesome side seam.  Many of my clothes are now bunny-nibbled.

In my role as DP, it is my job to have petting available somewhere between the hours of 7 to 10 pm.  My place is on the couch, next to the petting spot (designated by Gizmo).  The petting spot is on the end of the lounger of our sectional couch.  There is great tactical advantage to this area, as it is open on three sides and allows for both total visual recon of the living room and easy escape.  Bunnies are brilliant tacticians!  To keep the couch from becoming a fuzz pit, I drape a blanket over the end for him to sit on.  What's amazing is that this is now the only place he will sit on the couch.  He loves the blanket. 

Let the petting commence!  If I am not paying attention when Giz hops up to the petting spot, he'll give me a nudge with his head.  Then we have operation bunny bliss!  If you have not had the privilege of stroking one of these fine lagomorphs, I cannot put into words how soft they are.  It's no wonder they are used for therapy animals.  Stress just flies out of my system when I am running my fingers through his fur. 

How do you know that a rabbit is enjoying being petted?  First, and most common sense, it isn't trying to get away.  J  Gizmo extends his head out for a pet, then when you start lightly stroking, he settles down on his haunches.  That's the invitation to rub his back too.  As he relaxes, he will even extend all four legs and flop on his side in an expression of extreme bunny happiness.  As he approaches uber-relaxation, he may turn into a bunny pancake, all boneless and blissed-out.  That is what the DP is aiming for.

Gizmo Gets Manscaped

When you are owned by a rabbit, grooming activities occur constantly, but seasonally you get a special treat.  At least twice a year in the spring and the fall, your bun is going to shed his coat.  I call it the BIG SHED.  All that luxurious fluffy fur that you have been stroking and snuggling with is going to come out and be replaced by next season's coat.  I've noticed that though Gizmo is mostly a white bun with brown and grey spots, the colored part of his coat will be lighter during the winter and a darker in the summer.  Who knew that bunnies could be so fashionable?

During the Big Shed, I try to pet Gizmo's furry rumpus off at least twice daily to get the loose fur.  This serves two purposes:  one, so that I don't have to run the vacuum cleaner four times a day, and two, so that Giz doesn't ingest a ton of hair.  Rabbit tummies are just not built for that.  They can get hairballs which can be obstructive to their gastrointestinal tract, and that's deadly.  The buns can't hawk up a hairball like a cat does.  I've been told this is how they are built, but I prefer to believe that bunnies are much too sophisticated and polite to spit like a truck driver or barf like a size zero model at an all-you-can-eat buffet. 

Anyone who has encountered me during the Big Shed knows that the big event is happening by the amount of bunny fuzz clinging to my clothes at any given time.  If I forget to use the lint brush on the car seat, I can show up to work in a black suit with a white bottom.  Not joking.  I can walk through the living area, specifically not touch the rabbit (which is almost psychologically impossible), and still have fur on my pant cuffs.  Beware!  The fuzz seeks you out and stealthily attaches itself to any surface!  No matter how much I clean, there is airborne fluff in the house that never seems to touch ground.  In fact there may be fluff circulating from when we first adopted Giz – I wouldn't be surprised. 

Gizmo loves to be petted, so much that I believe he might forgo sleep and toileting (but never food) in order to remain in the petting spot on our couch.  He does not, however, like to be groomed with a brush.  I have literally tried every pet brush out there, and they have all been met with bunny disapproval with a four foot blast radius.  So hand grooming it is.  Luckily there is a trick!  If I dampen my hands with water and then pet him, I get loads of loose fur off and he is none the wiser.

I talk to him during the process.  Good Boy!  Look at all that fur that's not going into Gizmo's tummy!  What a good bunny!  Who's a good bunny?  Gizmo is!  And he still puts up with me, though somewhere the Idiot Switch has been thrown in the vocalization center of my brain.  I babble over cute small animals and babies; it's not a curable condition.

Mystery Man

Gizmo is a mystery man.  He's not tall, or dark, though he's certainly handsome.  He's the quiet type, very deep, a bun of many layers.  He never speaks of his past, and we have few clues to go on. 

A little over a year ago, we lost our Holland Lop Skippy to his second bout of gastrointestinal stasis.  The first bout occurred 3 months before the second, and incurred about a trillion dollars in inpatient vet hospital care.  Unfortunately the second occurrence did not respond to any care.  We were all heartbroken.  I could not stand to go home and see his empty hutch.  My heart had joined the Thousand, for my friend had stopped running today.  To get a handle on my grief, and to get a little fur therapy, I went to the local shelter outreach to do some volunteer petting that afternoon.

Lo and behold, when I arrived at the shelter there were not only cats and dogs, but one rabbit as well.  All that was known about him was that he was found in a field in Bellevue, with a respiratory infection and a few injuries (cuts/scrapes).  He was severely underweight.  To top it off he had a reaction to the antibiotic he was treated with, and had broken out in sores and lost large chunks of his fur.  This was one miserable bun, and to make him even more comfortable, they had neutered him.  Sigh.  I know this was necessary, but it seemed like overkill at the time.

So my first impression of Gizmo was that of a thin, half-bald mini-lop rabbit with healing scabs on his back and sides who was hopping gingerly around his pen.  Amazingly, even after all this trauma and abuse, he was quite friendly.  He allowed me to pick him up and pet him for a long time.  It was love at first pet.  This little guy needed our help!  I knew right away that he was going home with me, and that Skippy would have approved.   

Once tucked away in our home, he began showing signs that he had been a house rabbit in his previous life.  He used a litter box with no encouragement at all.  He seemed happy with his hutch, and knew how to use a water bottle.  He did not chew on the carpet and was mostly respectful of the furniture.  What a good boy! 

He was impatient to show me that he could do a few tricks as well.  When I petted one of his flanks, he would spin around in a circle in that direction a few times.  Then he would look at me expectantly.  When I didn't respond except for delighted laughter, he put his paws on my leg and gave me a meaningful look in the eyes.  Finally (stupid human) I realized that he was expecting a treat for his performance!  I immediately found a bag of golden raisins and gave him one.  He seemed quite satisfied after that. 

I have no idea who would have thrown away such a wonderful bun, but we are so glad he decided to come home with us.  He's our mysterious and talented Gizmo.  He is all healed, and he has healed us. 

Gizmo Loves Breakfast

Welcome to my world!  As you may know, being owned by a pet has its ups and downs.  Mostly ups.  For those who love bunnies, have them or enjoy hearing about them, I will be posting related stories.

Mornings at our house are all about getting organized, fed and dressed for the day, not necessarily in that order.  What's the most important meal of the day?  Breakfast, of course.  Who can live without breakfast?  Not I, and not Gizmo.

Rabbits are crepuscular, meaning that they are most active in the morning and evening.  You can think of these active periods as rabbit happy-hours.  In the wild, they would be creeping softly from their warm burrows, sniffing and listening for danger, munching down on whatever tasty vegetation they could find.  Gizmo is a house rabbit with a nighttime hutch and free roam of the downstairs family room during the day, but he still observes the rabbit niceties.  He is up at first light, impatiently pacing until breakfast is served by the goofy oversleeping house-people he lives with. 

His sensitive bunny ears first detect feet hitting the hardwood floor in our 50 year old house, then the creaking and popping of movement upstairs, the flush of a toilet, the thumping of drawers being opened and closed.  He is quivering with anticipation.  Then he hears the fwump, fwump of me coming down the stairs in bare feet.  Aha!  It is time!  Bring on the chow!

I unlatch his door and attach his access ramp so he can roam around.  He does not immediately spring for the door however.  He knows what is coming.  I fill a small scoop with rabbit pellets while Gizmo sits up and practically dances on his hind legs.  Hurry up!!! He seems to be saying.  As I bend in to fill his bowl, he practically shoves me out of the way with his fuzzy head.  Okay, okay already!  Once Giz has his head in the pellets, nothing will move him short of a nuclear blast.  I can pet him, tickle him, groom him... he will not budge. That boy knows how to commit. 

After a few minutes of petting, I drag myself back upstairs to get everyone else ready for the day.  By the time I get back downstairs 30 minutes later, all the pellets are gone, and Giz is sprawled out on the floor in bunny digestion ecstasy.  This is much like watching your fat Uncle Pete after Thanksgiving Dinner, discretely unfastening his belt and the top button of his pants while watching football on the couch.  If rabbits could burp (they can't), I'm sure I would hear him give the prolonged belch of a seasoned frat boy.  He eyes me with affection, allows a few more pets in the sprawled out mode and twitches his paws.  To quote Charlie Brown, he's very satisfying to cook for.