The Adventures of Tiny R
A Bunny's Tale
Well, That's 20 Bucks Down the Drain I got tired of lugging that piece of plywood around everytime I got ready to let Tiny R out of his cage. As you may remember, we used a piece of plywood to block off the hall so that we could keep Tiny R under better surveilance while he was out on his TOD (tour of duty) of the house.
So I got the idea of buying a baby gate. I figured a baby gate would be lighter weight and easier to put up and down than that slivery piece of wood. So I kept my eyes open everytime I went into a store that carried baby furniture.
Then one day I happened to see a shelf with several baby gates on display. Luckily, I had measured the distance across the place in the hall where I wanted to use the gate and had an idea of the size I needed. Finally, after plowing through the pile of flat boxes, I found the size I was looking for. It was marked $9.95. Wow, what a bargain, I thought. That should have been a hint.
After loading the awkward box into the too-small basket of the shopping cart, I carefully pushed my way toward the front of the store to the check-out stand. This was no easy accomplishment since the box had to ride at a diagonal angle while standing on one of its corners. This meant hanging onto the top with one hand while pushing the cart with the other. It wouldn't have been so bad if the store hadn't been crowded with people wandering around as if in a complete daze. Honestly, these people would never survive if they lived near heavy traffic.
Anyway, I finally made it up to the check-out counter without running over anyone's foot or otherwise maiming them as they stepped out in front of my cart or made abrupt stops in front of me to examine some bauble that caught their eyes. It was then I learned that the baby gate I had chosen was no longer on sale and that the real price was $19.95. By this time all I wanted to do was get out of there. So I paid the $20 plus tax and pushed on toward the exit. At least I had what I had come for. I always try to look on the bright side.
After unpacking the box and putting the baby gate up, I was happily surprised that the darned thing fit. And it seemed to be fairly easy to take up and down. I couldn't help feeling a little smug. It was worth it after all. No more slivers in my fingers from that ragged-edged piece of plywood. And, boy, was Tiny R going to be surprised when he found out that he didn't have free range anymore. But it didn't take too long before my feeling of euphoria was thoroughly trounced.
As soon as the cage door was opened, Tiny R came tumbling out and headed straight for the hall. He no doubt had heard me fussing around as I removed the gate from the box and put in place. Being an extremely curious rabbit, Tiny R wasted no time checking out what all the noise and activity was about.
When Tiny R came to the gate, he screeched to a halt and sat there looking at it. He hopped back and forth in front of the gate, stopping to stretch up and sniff every part of it he could reach. He could see through the gate but couldn't jump over it or get around it. The spring-loaded mechanism worked great and that gate couldn't be pushed over by a rabbit no matter how hard he tried. And Tiny R couldn't jump over it unless he had a ramp and a running start. And Heaven only knows, I wasn't going to provide that!
"I win, Tiny R," I thought to myself. "You can't sneak down the hall anymore and dig holes in my carpet." Words can't express the feeling of elation I felt. I had pitted myself against a 5# rabbit and had actually won!!! And it felt good!!
Somewhere in my youth or childhood I heard someone say, "Pride goeth before a fall." I guess I was due for a fall. And it didn't take long to happen.
I had barely left the area when I heard Eric call me to come quick. Tiny R was down at the end of the hall happily digging away at the carpet again. I simply couldn't believe it! How did that little scamp get over the gate? As soon as I caught sight of the baby gate the answer was clear.
I had overlooked two simple facts: the gate was designed to thwart the roaming instincts of babies, not rabbits. And babies don't come equiped with front teeth that are sharp enough to chew down small trees.
Tiny R, always quick with a solution to almost any rabbit problem, had done what any bright bunny with a mission would have done: he chewed through the plastic webbing on the gate and hopped though the hole to freedom. Or in this case, to his favorite carpet-digging area.
I suppose I should have been mad at Tiny R but I couldn't get enthused about it. He was just being a bunny. I should have known that plastic would never do the job. So now the baby gate is in the garage. I have accepted the fact that I will have to see if I can replace the plastic with some wire mesh or wood slats. I think I'll try the wire mesh first. Or maybe I'll combine the two. I don't know. But I am determined that Tiny R is not going to get the last word on this issue. I've got to win this war. It's a matter of honor now.
Hey, There! Bring Me Hay! "Hay" is a big deal in Tiny R's life. It is one of his necessities. Thanks to the House Rabbit Society internet pages, we found out about the direct connection between good quality hay and good quality life for little bunnies. Tiny R has never had any digestive problems and we attribute having a continuous supply of hay one of the main reasons for his good health.
Just as with rabbit pellets, there are distinct differences in hay. Quality is a prime consideration. Old, wet, moldy, dirty or vermine infested hay is an abomination. Rabbits won't, and shouldn't, touch it. If it doesn't smell sweet and clean, or if you wouldn't put it in your own mouth, don't give it to your rabbit!
And rabbits have their likes and dislikes. The House Rabbit Society members who recommended Timothy hay knew what they were talking about. Tiny R loves his Timothy. And if he can't find any more in his cage, he thumps and rattles his cage door with his teeth until we bring him some.
As soon as we put a big handful of Timothy hay into his cage, Tiny R pulls up and settles in for a satisfying interlude of peaceful chewing. He likes to find the leafy stems first. But after that he's not too choosy. He likes to sit quietly in his loaf position. As he munches, the pieces of hay hanging out the sides of his mouth grow steadily shorter until they disappear from view. A picture of pure contentment, a small black bunny and a pile of sweet-smelling, tasty hay.
And after a while, it is not uncommon to hear a loud "Whummph!" as he flops on his side for a nap. A full stomach, a warm, safe place to sleep. I wish all little bunnies had it as good as Tiny R.
We, as well as Tiny R, are very greatful to those knowledgeable house rabbit people who took the time to share their know-how with those of us who are just starting out with pet bunnies. Tiny R's life is much healthier and safer than if we had been left to learn everything the hard way.
Get This Thing Off Of Me! When Tiny R first came to live with us, I had some pretty unrealistic ideas about rabbits. He was so cute. I thought it would be fun to take him out in the yard on a leash. My idea was to give him a little more freedom while still keeping him out of trouble. So when I saw a "rabbit harness and leash" in the pet section, I bought it. That was a big mistake!
I adjusted the little harness to fit Tiny R. The harness was very light-weight and looked like it was made out of a woven shoestring. I didn't think Tiny R would even know he had it on. But I was wrong, another big mistake!
I finally managed to get the harness over Tiny R's head and snapped around his chest. It wasn't too tight and it looked like it fit just fine. But Tiny R would have none of it. He wriggled and twisted and tried to back out of it. He was not just irritated; he was MAD!!!
As always, Tiny R knew exactly how to get rid of the problem. He stopped struggling. He tucked his head straight down and grabbed the harness in his teeth. Snip, snap and the harness was history. No more strings around his middle, no more strings around his neck. Free again just like a bunny should be.
Tiny R hopped off a short distance and stopped. And when he turned around, he looked me straight in the eye and let me know that it would not be wise to try that harness stuff again.
So we came to an agreement that day. No more harnesses and we would still be friends. And that's the way it is.
Oh, No! Not My New Sofa!! Well, the thing I feared has finally happened. Teeth marks have appeared on the corner of my new sofa. Thankfully, the little nips were made on the bottom of the skirt in the back where it won't show. But Tiny R is definitely in the dog house, now.
I have discovered a quick, temporary way of keeping the sofa skirt out of Tiny R's sight. By standing a tall, hard-bound book up against the sofa corner with the book open at a 90 degree angle, Tiny R can't readily see any upholstery edges. And what he can't see, he can't chew.
My Reader's Digest music books work great. I know it looks odd to first-time visitors to see the corners of my sofa being cuddled by music books. But as soon as I explain their function, most people say they understand. Of course, unless you've had a house rabbit of your own, I doubt if they can really appreciate what I'm up against.
So far, Tiny R hasn't figured out my new strategy. But it's only a matter of time. I must not become complacent.
Pardon me if my thoughts cause offense
But some bun owners seem rather dense.
To let your bun roam
Chewing up your whole home?
It simply defies commonsense.
Hi, Pal! What'cha Got? Tiny R can best be described as friendly but independent. He has a very high opinion of himself and prefers to be "in charge" whenever possible. But he is also a practical rabbit. He's not above a bit of schmoozing if he thinks there might be something in it for him. In other words, he can turn on the charm when necessary, especially when he knows you have something he wants. Sound familiar?
The smell of graham crackers can turn Tiny R into a regular lap-sitter. I think he even knows the sound of the waxed paper wrapper when I take a graham cracker out of the box. It immediately causes him to stand up on his hind legs, clutching the cage door with his front paws while he gazes at me longingly. Or, if he's out and about, Tiny R stays right on my heels until I sit down. Then he hops up and either sits beside me or climbs on my lap. If I happen to have the newspaper or a magazine on my lap, too bad. They get sat on while Tiny R puts on his most "I've-been-such-a-good-boy-today-don't-I-deserve-a-treat?" expression. Oh boy, can rabbits beg! Regular little con men.
Of course, I give in and break off a little piece. I know he will be back for more so I dole it out in small bites. He takes his little treasure a short way off and eats it. Then he's back for more. Thankfully, he isn't a glutton and when he's through, that's it. He ignores the rest of the cracker and goes on his way. And that's the end of the lap-sitting.
Whatever is left of the cracker, I give to Chamois, our elderly yellow lab, who has usually been watching closely to make sure she gets her share.
A little aside: I once heard a man talking about dogs and their intelligence. It was his opinion that dogs are a lot smarter than most humans give them credit for. For example: he said, "If you don't think dogs can count, let your dog see you putting three dog cookies in your pocket and then only give him two." That ought to convince you that dogs can count.
Pack My Things. I'm Going On a Trip. Tiny R is not a world traveler but he has made several trips to Sacramento for the holidays and to Santa Clara to "attend" a wedding.
Tiny R is a wonderful traveler. He makes himself comfortable in his travel carrier on a thick cushion of hay which he nibbles on to pass the time. And he has his water bottle if he gets thirsty. The travel carrier occupies a prime spot on the jumpseat inside our Toyota Xtra Cab. Tiny R settles in and usually doesn't make a peep until we arrive at our destination.
Tiny R's cage is packed in the back of the pickup, ready to receive him as soon as we arrive. I suppose it may seem strange to haul a rabbit along for family get-togethers, but, hey . . . he's part of the family, too. And he's a very polite house guest. Probably because he'd restricted to his cage unless someone is watching him every single second.
Tiny R even stayed in a motel one time. We called ahead to make sure it was alright. He caused no trouble whatsoever and was 100% quieter than the "next door neighbors" who woke us up around 2 a.m. with a yelling, things-hitting-the-wall, fight. The answer to the next question is obvious, "No! We don't plan on ever staying there again!" Tiny R, as usual, didn't voice an opinion.
These Shoes Were Made For Chewing Shoes have always been a big magnet for Tiny R. In his younger days, he was only interested in sniffing them. But things have escalated the last few weeks.
First it started with rubber thongs. Tiny R found out he could grab them with his teeth and toss them around. That was fun. He didn't chew them, just gave them a throw.
But then Tiny R discovered Nikes. And that wasn't fun. At least not for us.
At first Tiny R just tried to get a nibble of the soft lining around the ankle of the shoe. We were lucky to catch him before he had a chance to actually chew the material. And then that phase passed. But what took its place was even worse.
Tiny R discovered shoelaces. Unfortunately he wasn't satisfied with chewing up the plain cotton ones. Tiny R had a real preference for those expensive leather laces. We discovered this when we found Eric's shoe with one lace chopped off at the islet and the rest of it scattered around the shoe in three separate pieces.
Naturally Tiny R got a scolding. And for some stupid reason, we thought that would make a difference. Life went on and we made no change in where we left our shoes. We thought Tiny R had learned his lesson. But, naturally, we were wrong. All it did was make him sneakier.
After that, when Eric tied his shoes, sometimes the laces would break without any warning. The laces were fairly new so it didn't make any sense. So he inspected the laces to see what was wrong with them. It was then that Eric discovered that Tiny R had been engaged in covert activites.
Tiny R had apparently been nibbling on the laces when we weren't looking, but just enough to weaken them without chewing all the way through. Then when Eric started tying his shoes, the laces snapped.
All the time Eric just thought it was his fault while Tiny R, the guilty little scamp, sat quietly in his cage watching the whole thing and didn't make a sound. I wonder if rabbits can chuckle?
But we finally learned our lesson. "Keep your shoes out of Tiny R's reach or suffer the consequences!"
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E-mail address: bettyann@cassano.com