We're trying to raise our meat rabbits as naturally as possible. They graze in moveable rabbit tractors, and we leave them be as much as possible. This is a hard week though, the bunnies' mama is weaning them and we had a vicious cold snap with tons of rain. The three smallest bunnies died overnight. The little brown one we thought was dead, its body being trampled by the others. But it was still breathing. I scooped the limp cold little body up and slipped it into my bra. She spent the rest of the day there. I fed her milk mixed with sugar from a syringe as soon as she was strong enough to lap it up. I held her and talked softly to her through tummy aches. She slept and slept, and then she woke up and sneezed and sneezed and sneezed for a couple of hours. By bedtime she was pooping and peeing and eating and drinking and no longer had the snuffles.
We won't be eating her; we named her Cocoa.
It was a good day.
3 comments:
Another baby bunny is snatched from the jaws of death, revived, named, and adopted with a pledge never to eat her. The ultimate happy ending!
I'm so glad you added "we won't be eating her"...I was trying to reconcile your kangaroo care with "rabbit for dinner" and it just didn't work! :)
Also, this might win the prize for best title ever.
I just came across your blog . . . it'slovely . . . as I was reading this post I was thinking, " they can't eat her after all that" then the lovely end. : )
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