I got my first rabbit when I was 11. It wasactually a very traumatic experience, as was my second rabbit just ayear or so later. I'm amazed I ever got another one...:?
Oliver, my first bun, was given to us too young and
X) not properlyweaned, so he did not eat or drink. We were inexperienced, and didn'tknow what to do for him. He managed to jump out of his pen and slipunder my door his second night home and our cat bit him. Not a seriousbite, but Oliver was so weak he succumbed to infection the next day.
The next bunny, Nicholas Peter, was a neglected hutch bunny who hatedpeople, hated being held, and refused to budge from the corner of thefilthy cage he had been dropped off in (another rabbit that had beengiven to us). He was with us about a month; he lived outside, andeverday my mom would get him to trust her a little more, even lettingher hold him once in a while. Again, though, we were ratherinexperienced, and Nicholas was afflicted with fly strike. It hadseemingly happened overnight andwas absolutely horrible. Mydad took him to be put to sleep, and says he is still emotionallytraumatized my that poor bunny's suffering.
Rex came to live with us just over two years later, and I wasdetermined to educate myself. He was a fulltime house rabbit with lotsof love and attention, and when he was three, we bonded him to Peanut,a shelter rabbit. They've been together for the last two years and arevery happy with each other.
~M
