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Saving Nine Lives

Monday 20 February 2012 at 06:13 am

"What you do makes a difference, and you have to decide what kind of difference you want to make."
Jane Goodall

Meet Willow.  She was turned in to Animal Control and taken in by our local HRS.  Little did anyone know she was not only homeless, but pregnant.  Only a few days after arriving in rescue last Spring she gave birth to eight (yes, eight) healthy babies.  We met her one Saturday in July, hoping to find a companion for our rabbit.  She seemed easy-going, and a bit shy.  This only goes to show that looks can be deceiving.  At first she wasn't sure of us, but she has slowly bloomed.  Her favorite game is chase, and she will absolutely wear you out.  No need for the gym.  She does huge binkies and twists, and makes us laugh so hard.  She is very smart, and when she looks at me I often feel like she is just waiting on me to catch up with her.  Her adoration can be bought with pumpkin bunny cookies.  I can't see how anyone would want to give her up.  What about those babies, you ask?  They were all adopted into homes of their own.  And so I say to my friend who rescued her - thank you for making a difference, for her, for all her babies, and for us.

Only Temporary

Monday 06 February 2012 at 06:38 am

contributed by Georgiana Hall

About two years ago, I noticed a sign at the health club where I swim.  It read “Free rabbit, cage extra for $30. Please, we don’t want him anymore.” Somehow I could not resist calling the woman up and inquiring what the situation was. As the phone rang, I braced myself, since I never know what they will say or who it was.
     “My daughter went off to college last year and we no longer want the rabbit.”
     I asked her why she did not just keep it as a pet, trying to convince her that they really make nice pets. Perhaps the daughter would enjoy seeing “Cornelius” when she came home for breaks.
    “Nope, no can do. Do you want it or not?’
        I begged her to take care of it for a few more days and to not even think of letting it go. She agreed to do that. Of course, the next day I called her back. It took another week of “phone tag” and several miscommunications to finally get her to tell me when to come over.
    It was a hot May afternoon, when I drove into a gated community that was several miles from my house. After several wrong turns, I finally found her townhouse. It was in a nice neighborhood with Mercedes and BMWs in many driveways. Children were playing in the yards nearby and a dog barked as I approached the door. I had been told that the rabbit was on the front porch. Sure enough, there was a small cage on wheels, filled with cedar chips and an adorable black and white mixed Dutch rabbit.
     The heat was overwhelming but luckily the little fellow did not look too stressed out. He had a water bottle and pellets and the bedding looked fairly clean. A teenage girl answered the door. Her attitude was, as I can only describe it, like that of a “valley girl.” She had a cell phone glued to one ear while a small dog yapped noisily from behind her.
    “You must be the rabbit lady. Like, there’s the rabbit and the cage.” She pointed casually to the small cage as I noticed her black fingernail polish.
     “I am not taking the cage,” I became somewhat irritated at the girl. “But I brought a carrier. How long have you had him?”
      She barked into her phone, “Hold,” and stared back at me for a minute. “A few years, we had another one, but he died. Is that all?”
     It was obvious that she had no intention of talking to me and just wanted me to leave. I thanked her quietly (I don’t know why) as she shut the door in my face. Sighing, I pulled the little fellow out of the cage and placed him in the carrier. As I drove off, I mumbled to myself, “So, the dog stays in the AC but the rabbit sits out on the hot porch.”
     I renamed the rabbit Charlie. We had a real estate agent friend by that name that I had talked to that morning. Somehow the jovial, friendly personality of Charlie the realtor just matched that of the former Cornelius now Charlie the rabbit.
    Charlie turned out to be a gem. His fur was quite matted around his bottom with dried urine. He was also underweight. It took me a good week to comb out every knot of fur but soon his beautiful coat of black and white was sleek and smooth. He gobbled down every blade of hay, pellet and leafy green that I placed in front of him, almost non-stop for the first couple of days.
    Since I was hoping to have him adopted after his neutering, I put a large sign on his pen telling my husband Oren that Charlie was “Only Temporary.” Oren would then come home every day and ask if we still had “OT” in the guest room.
     Needless to say, I watched Oren get just as attached to Charlie as I was. Charlie was a binky master. He would race up and down the bathroom and leap high into the air. Then he would crouch down and insist on being petted. Rabbits can’t talk, but they sure can communicate with us in other ways. I think he was so happy to have his new home that he was trying to tell us this. I knew in my heart that I could not give him away.
    And so, two years later, Charlie is still with us and by no means “only temporary.”

It's Adopt a Rescued Rabbit Month!!

Friday 03 February 2012 at 06:50 am

In honor of "Adopt a Rescued Rabbit" Month we will be bringing you rescue stories all month long here on the HRS blog!