But first, background. This is a rabbit post. If you are one of the poor souls who friended for porn and suddenly see this? Yeah. Sorry abou that. But to be fair, it's on my userinfo. So it's not like there wasn't warning. I bought a rabbit in mammalian panic, I got two more after this reptile petting zoo day, and now--yeah. Four.
When we last left our heroine, which for the sake of my ego is me, she had picked up a fourth rabbit from a chick at craigslist. We'll start there.
Okay, see, first off, my mother sent me the link to this, because of the lionhead thing. Lionheads are fluffy and grow this ruff aroudn their heads that--okay, see the name? You get the idea. It's really cute. It's also high maintenance, which actually may explain why he's just remarkably well-socialized, since he needs more brushing than the other three will ever allow me to do. Seriously. This is the proof that I'm not necessarily a bad rabbit parent. I have evil rabbits. But anyway, she asked an adoption fee, which is fine, so we went to get him and I fell totally in love when I first saw him.
Mr. Waffles--yeah, I'm sorry, he came with the name. There's nothing to be done but grit our teeth and just deal--came with a very cool cage, the smelliest and most horrible litter I have ever seen, an awesome watter bottle, a leash, and other paraphanelia. Yesterday was mostly spent talking to him so he'd get used to the sound of my voice, since well, he's bigger than the rest of the Warren and this baby could actually reach my throat if he put some back into it. He's five months old, the color of very light caramel or apricots, and as a rule, about as zen as can be. Compared to Reggie, he's comatose. Compared to say, an animal not in the throes of adolescent lust and dark sociopathic tendencies, he's pretty nice. Tested picking him up twice and holding him in my lap. He prefers ducking his head into the crook of my elbow but doesn't fight me at all. Seriously. I have no new hand scars. The current crop is almost completely in the scabbing stage. This is very new, since I've kind of gotten used to walking around with the look of someone who spends time playing wiht razors for fun.
Oh yeah, my life is a joy. I seriously sometimes sit and think, why again did you not want a cat?
Anyway, today, first step in rabbit bonding--I put his cage up against the Warren's pen. It was--I want to say cute, but I might have mentioned Reggie entered puberty? Well, Bryante and Sloppy have, too, so they all curled up together to rub against the pen and then--see, I'm creeping myself out, but seriously, they do this stuff right in front of me--they did this thing that I'm pretty sure is only possible in some extremely flexible gay porn. It was--yeah. I just need to go lie down and pray for them to get to five full months so they can be fixed. On the other hand, none are fighting, so I take my comfort in the fact that they make love, not war. Except with me. I got in the pen today, got two hard nips, one light one, and Reggie crawling in my hair to do his lawnmower impression. You think cute. Yeah. I barely escaped with my life.
Anyway, no overt hostility, though let me just say, Mr. Waffles could kick all their asses well before breakfast. He's about as athetlic as Reggie, but less graceful, making up for it in sheer mass.
Okay, behind cut, latest pics.
From top to bottom:
1.) Me and the Warren. I tried to bribe the boys into sitting on my lap, and by God, I was close. From left to right--Reggie, Sloppy, ad Bryante. Note the red eyes. I'm just saying.
2.) Me and Mr. Waffles, side view. Yeah. He's bigger. You'll note I don't look terrified. This is pretty refreshing.
3.) Me and Mr. Waffles, two. Okay, it's just--he just let me *hold him*, so I made my sister take another picture. Notice the lack of overt hostility? My God. So wonderful. So this is what it is like to have an animal that doesn't want you to die. Cool.
And there is our rabbit update. They're on a four lettuce and single vegetable salad for dinner, with a four-type hay I mixed from Timothy Grass, Orchard Grass, Bermuda Grass, and alfalfa, with a pellet mix in the mornings. Junior the Bearded Lizard is now one foot from nose to tip of tail and shedding in creepily large swathes, eating crickets and meal worms at an alarming rate. Meal. Worms. They like--*waves*--come in these containers? And as they warm up, they *move*. And if I thought it was horrifying to watch a cricket hang out of his mouth, I just didn't know. He has this thing he does where he looks at me from Child's shoulder and tries to jump at me. I want to say I have yet to pass out. I will say I have been on the coffee table more than once when he missed. We also shred some of the rabbit salad for him. He pretty much turns up his nose at it.
I have been reliably informed that some Bearded Lizards eat on baby mice later in life. I would like to state, hell no. This is my line in the sand. I will not buy tiny frozen--or God, tiny living--pink or furry baby mice to feed a reptile. It is not happening. Did you know they come frozen in packs? I did not. Now I do. I could have lived long without knowing.
I need to not think about this. Like, ever.