This morning, I went about our normal routine. I fed and watered the rabbits, gave them some love and went about my business. There were many random sneezes and nose rubbing among the bunch, which served as a reminder of what needed to be done.
I’ve been tossing it around in my brain, not really wanting to grasp the reality of our situation. I could save them, right? Maybe we could just have a herd that carried pasteurella. We could just not sell rabbits ever. Work with our own bloodlines.
It doesn’t work like that. I’ve read rare cases where pasteurella can be passed from rabbit to human, rabbit to dog, and more commonly, rabbit to chicken. I’m not interested in getting my kids, dog or chickens sick and I’m certainly not interested in getting sick myself. So I loaded the pellet gun and finished the terrible business of pasteurella in our herd. What better day to start new than today? The sooner I ended their suffering, the sooner we can begin anew.
I won’t go into the details, but it was a quick ordeal that ended quietly. I would stop in between to get a hold on my emotions and then roll onto the next item at hand. When I was done, I was disgusted. I was disgusted with myself for bringing this horror and loss on my herd. I was disgusted that someone else would be so arrogant as to do this to someone else. But I have forgiven her. I have to.
I’ve decided to repost the first blog entry I ever did about Sunny. This is from my old blog. Sunny was our first animal on the H.H.A. and really one of a kind. I’m going to miss him.
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Partly Sunny, Mostly Cloudy
Well, we did it. We finally got our first Angora rabbit. I made the call on Saturday morning and by that afternoon he was home. The Oompas decided to call him “Sunny”. I suggested the name Cloudy, due to his natural color, but Mrs. Hotel is a big fan of juxtaposition and supported the previous name.
So far, he has been a peach. We’re slowly transitioning him to life in the outdoor cage, so he has been hanging out with me in the evenings. Rabbits get it. What, you might ask? Don’t poop on the free range. Poop in your box. I had him out for over an hour last night and he never dropped a pebble. The second I put him in the box, he filled it – several times. I think it was nerves on his part, but really, his name should have been “Pooper”.
He’s close to 5 months old, just short of show-quality (which I could really give a rabbit’s behind about) and WOOLLY. That’s the cool part. He is “blowing his coat” right now and I’m already working on getting a one gallon ziploc bag full of fiber. If you know any spinners, send them my way. It won’t be long.
Pax Domini Sit Semper Vobiscum,
Mike, Oscar, Hotel…..out.
P.S. – I want to thank all of our readers for being so supportive. I wasn’t sure what I’d encounter when I started posting about our situation. A special shout out to Mad Hatter Rabbitry. I appreciate all of your kind words.
