A bad mother … or a suicidal bunny?
For almost a week now I've been trying to work out – am I just a bad mother (of my bunnies, that is – heaven forbid having real children!) or do I have a suicidal rabbit? My friends tell me the former is most likely.
About a month ago Scotch (see my bunny photo – she's the one in the middle), the smallest and clumsiest of my three house-rabbits, fell 3/4 of the way down our stairs. She lay at the bottom of the stairs in a heap, unable to get up and gasping for air. In complete despair we frantically scooped her up into her carry-case and rushed her to the vets. The vet rushed out of an appointment to see her straight away, only for her to jump to her feet and start walking around as if nothing had happened.
Then, last week, I had to fly over to Belfast for work. Just after I landed, Nathan called to say that Scotch had bitten through the iron cable (whilst it was plugged in for he to iron a shirt). He said there was a flash, a very loud bang, and Scotch flying away from the bitten cable. So, off she went to the vet yet again. The damage? Two black front teeth and singed whiskers.
Now, are we just bad parents (and should therefore take this as a strong sign to never ever have real children), or do I have a suicidal bunny? Other than throwing herself down the stairs and electrocuting herself, she's a very happy, spoilt little bunny (with white teeth, again, I'm pleased to say). At the pub last night everyone insisted that I'm a bad mother. Cruel friends!