![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I was woken up at 6:23am by the sounds of rabbit races. I sat up, and saw Darwin (grey Dutch) chasing Azrael (black Netherland) around the room.
"But aren't the Netherlands already Dutch, Kristen?" Not when it comes to rabbits, Kristen. Dutch bunnies are about the size of cats; Netherlands are dwarves, about half the size of a Dutch. A hostile Dutch can do some real damage to a Netherland. Azrael is Darwin's shadow and best friend, Laverne to his Shirley, but Darwin does occasionally have moments of "Ach, get away from my hiney!" I hoped that was all this was, rather than a full-out falling out between bonded bunnies that would require massive geopolitical rearranging of the house. Again.
I sprang from my bed, surprised but ready to stop a fight and send them to their separate kennels. I flipped on the light, and lo, there was Azrael, tangled up in a fly strip! The chase stopped a moment while the bunnies blinked and stared at me. Then Darwin leaned over and tried to grab hold of the strip, and Azrael ran away.
Aha. So for five minutes, Darwin and I tried to grab hold of Azrael without panicking him, so we could free him from this gooey nightmare. Finally he stopped by the shelf and I scooped him up (yay for nitrile gloves!), dropped him in the bathtub on top of a blanket awaiting washing, and took a good look at him. It didn't look bad, so I grabbed both ends and pulled, up and fast like a Band-aid.
It was a good moment for the two of us, I think. He started to freak out but realized he was free of the offending material, and when he turned to look up at me, there was an expression of epiphany on his face. Bunny epiphany, yes, but epiphany nonetheless. He let me run a wet wash cloth over him to remove a bit of the remaining goo, and I picked him up and set him in the floor with none of the usual struggle.
While he ran under the bathtub to roll in dust and pick at his fur, I went to the door to reassure Darwin, who had been waiting and watching the whole time.
Azrael's now bouncing happily around the bedroom, stopping occasionally to pick at his fur. The strip wasn't poisoned, but I'm not happy with him possibly ingesting that goo, so I'll be taking him aside later, after we've all calmed down, for a little trim. Darwin is standing guard at the bedroom door, watching him, watching the curious cats, watching us humans, and in general making sure all his well in his domain.
In other bunny news, Topaz (calico Dutch!) has started eating cat food and pestering the (oh so hostile) cats to play with him. So you fix one problem...
"But aren't the Netherlands already Dutch, Kristen?" Not when it comes to rabbits, Kristen. Dutch bunnies are about the size of cats; Netherlands are dwarves, about half the size of a Dutch. A hostile Dutch can do some real damage to a Netherland. Azrael is Darwin's shadow and best friend, Laverne to his Shirley, but Darwin does occasionally have moments of "Ach, get away from my hiney!" I hoped that was all this was, rather than a full-out falling out between bonded bunnies that would require massive geopolitical rearranging of the house. Again.
I sprang from my bed, surprised but ready to stop a fight and send them to their separate kennels. I flipped on the light, and lo, there was Azrael, tangled up in a fly strip! The chase stopped a moment while the bunnies blinked and stared at me. Then Darwin leaned over and tried to grab hold of the strip, and Azrael ran away.
Aha. So for five minutes, Darwin and I tried to grab hold of Azrael without panicking him, so we could free him from this gooey nightmare. Finally he stopped by the shelf and I scooped him up (yay for nitrile gloves!), dropped him in the bathtub on top of a blanket awaiting washing, and took a good look at him. It didn't look bad, so I grabbed both ends and pulled, up and fast like a Band-aid.
It was a good moment for the two of us, I think. He started to freak out but realized he was free of the offending material, and when he turned to look up at me, there was an expression of epiphany on his face. Bunny epiphany, yes, but epiphany nonetheless. He let me run a wet wash cloth over him to remove a bit of the remaining goo, and I picked him up and set him in the floor with none of the usual struggle.
While he ran under the bathtub to roll in dust and pick at his fur, I went to the door to reassure Darwin, who had been waiting and watching the whole time.
Azrael's now bouncing happily around the bedroom, stopping occasionally to pick at his fur. The strip wasn't poisoned, but I'm not happy with him possibly ingesting that goo, so I'll be taking him aside later, after we've all calmed down, for a little trim. Darwin is standing guard at the bedroom door, watching him, watching the curious cats, watching us humans, and in general making sure all his well in his domain.
In other bunny news, Topaz (calico Dutch!) has started eating cat food and pestering the (oh so hostile) cats to play with him. So you fix one problem...
