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.