Lyle came into Buckeye HRS foster care in November of 2003 at approximately four months old. Because of the special ongoing care required, it is unlikely that Lyle will be adopted, so he’s considered a Sanctuary rabbit.
Here’s a bit of Lyle’s background —
A lady, whose son won Lyle at a carnival, was exasperated and annoyed because he was constantly wetting himself and making a lot of work for her. She wasn’t willing or financially able to look into the medical causes of Lyle’s problem, nor the necessary treatments. Her husband had threatened to throw him out into the woods to fend for himself if she didn’t “get rid of him” soon.
When Lyle arrived, he had bad hock sores on his feet. His legs were raw and scalded from urine burn. We cleaned him up and rubbed antibacterial cream on him for a few days, but the problem didn’t go away. Lyle had several vet visits, and despite the many tests performed, his problem was a mystery. Finally, after several more tests, we learned that his body was overproducing urine crystals. We still can’t figure out, however, why he “leaks”. Because of this leaking, he needs to be bathed at least every other day. He also needs to have a special cream rubbed on his underside, thighs, and feet. He must live on fleece blankets with absorbent rugs and towels underneath to soak up the moisture. Recently we have seen evidence of bladder sludge, a thick pasty substance in his urine, so he needs subcutaneous fluids at least every day to help flush the sludge from his bladder.
Unusual for a dwarf (he’s about 3 ½ lbs), Lyle is a snuggler. He loves people and doesn’t mind being picked up and held. He’ll also sit a long time for pets. Although he doesn’t like his regular baths, he does enjoy the attention and the human contact he gets. He is a true joy to care for!
It is with tremendous sadness that I’m letting you know that Harvey, my beloved sanctuary rabbit, passed away. He was a black lop we’ve had for the last four years and had the most interactive personality of any rabbit I’ve ever had.
He used to seek me out and jump on my lap on the family room couch to watch TV in the evenings and groom me. If I was in the living room reading while Bill was watching something else, Harvey would make his way up the steps to the living room to sit or lie with me on that couch. Even though he was deaf, it seemed he always knew where I was.
I miss him terribly and even though there are other rabbits in the house, there is a huge void in our lives. He was my best pal.
Harvey had medical issues from the day he came to us. Bad teeth, bad ears, bad tear ducts, sneezing goop, etc. His chronic pasteurella manifested in many forms. He has had several surgeries for facial and ear abscesses over the years and always remained super friendly. Even his veterinarian, Dr. Riggs, thought Harvey was a very rare personality (they all loved him up there, too) and said Harvey belonged on the Mt. Rushmore of Rabbits. 🙂
Kristi
Harvey is a mini-lop who is about five years old. He has a deformed jaw which
causes him lots of dental and ear problems.
Since his jaw doesn’t line up, his teeth cannot wear properly and he has to have his molars trimmed every two months by his veterinarian. Due to his dental problems, he cannot eat greens like a normal rabbit — they become impacted in his mouth. In order to get some veggies in him, he gets pure canned pumpkin instead of a salad each morning. He loves the pumpkin and gets an orange chin until he has a chance to groom himself after eating..
He also has chronic ear problems which sometimes lead to respiratory infections. His ears get flushed at the vet every two months and he is often on antibiotic ear drops. His ears also get cleaned daily at home. Most recently, he had a respiratory infection that required twice-daily antibiotic injections for nearly a month to clear up. His medical bills will always be ongoing and can be quite expensive.
Throughout all the poking, prodding, digging and cleaning, Harvey has kept his sweet personality. He loves to be petted and jumps on the couch to watch TV in the evenings.
Like every foster rabbit that comes to us, we had such high hopes when you came into our home. We’d get you ‘altered’ and healthy so that a loving family would give you a forever home where you’d live the life of a house rabbit. But for one reason or another, perhaps you were too shy or old, or easily frightened, or you used your teeth to express yourself when a growl would suffice, no one came to adopt you.
So it was with Belle (aka Mrs. Bootski), a stray who was captured in Bellefontaine after evading her captors for three cold months in 2001. Throughout February, March, and April, neighbors had spotted her roaming the area before she was finally corralled and caught. Even though we were 100 miles away, we were the only foster home that had room for her, so we made the trip to pick her up.
It was obvious that Belle was extremely shy and unaccustomed to human affection. Despite our best efforts to socialize her, she didn’t warm to anything more than a nose rub at feeding time. She wasn’t even interesting in exploring during her free time. As the weeks turned to months, and the months turned to years, we knew it was going to be hard to place Belle into a new home. After three years of zero interest in her from potential adopters, we decided that even if Belle was adopted, it would be especially stressful for her to get re-settled, therefore she joined our sanctuary program. She moved into the living room where she seemed to enjoy interacting with the dogs, cat, and (somewhat) with us. Still, she didn’t come out of her x-pen when given the chance, and became stiff as a board when picked up for cuddling or grooming. Although she was constrained by the restricted liberties of being a foster, she finally settled into her routines and became comfortable with familiar surroundings and with the people who cared for her.
One night about bedtime, Sue noticed that Belle hadn’t eaten her veggies or her pellets and she seemed to be uncomfortable. I picked her up and held her while casually examining her. She was cold and lethargic, so I let her snuggle into a plush blanket on my lap and gently stroked her head and ears while she relaxed and her eyes started to close. Twenty minutes later she let out a deep sigh and she died. Despite all of the euthanasia events I’d tended to in the past with rabbits and dogs, this was the first time an animal had ever died in my arms of natural causes. Thankfully, it was a quiet and peaceful passing, although it still left me feeling empty and helpless in the face of “The Black Rabbit.”
I am so very grateful to the sponsors who contribute to the sanctuary program. Without your support, taking care of rabbits like Mrs. Bootski would be completely up to us and would undoubtedly limit the number of other fosters that we can care for and find homes for. Because they are generally long-term residents, there’s no way for us not to become attached to them just as we do with our own pets. Currently three of our nine fosters are sanctuary rabbits living out their days by keeping us company. Sadie, Sylvester, and Pumpkin join me in thanking their sponsors for all their help!
I had to put Patty down this morning. In two days, her back legs went from being stiff with arthritis, to not working at all. She could not walk and I noticed she was having trouble breathing. By last night, she had started to have some thick nasal discharge and had lost interest in eating. It was her time. She was over ten years old and had fought cancer for two years. (Thank you very, very much to Dr. O, Dr. Tim, and the fantastic staff at the Bird & Exotic Wellness Center in Toledo. You guys gave her another good two years with me that I am so grateful for.) (Thanks also to Dr. Clark and his staff at the Bellevue Animal Hospital for Patty’s initial spay and tumor removal, and for helping her to the bridge this morning. We lean on you a lot and want you to know how very much we appreciate your putting up with us!)
Patty was named after my mom (it gets hard coming up with new names for all these guys). She was the last survivor of a group of six we took in when their owner was evicted — the first group rescue to put us over the three-foster-bun limit that Sue & I were supposed to operate under. We’ve never been under four fosters since then! She and her five relatives were surrendered by their owner after a BHRS member contacted me for help.
That contact in itself is a long story, some of the details are still secret for privacy reasons, I think. (The person who saved those rabbits is on our mailing list – THANK YOU for getting them to us!). They all lived outside, in a wire run in a backyard in Toledo where they were fed day-old donuts from a bakery where the owner worked, and only randomly received water. The waste from the rabbits simply piled up so high in the run that the buns were basically living on a large mound of droppings, with very little room above their heads. Breeding was not controlled, and the rabbits were occasionally harassed by neighbor kids. They were all rex rabbits with thin fur on their feet, so everybun had sore hocks. Since they weren’t used to having clean water, they were all accustomed to drinking their own urine, which all continued to do while in our care. It’s gross until you realize that this behavior was one they developed as a means of survival.
Of the six rabbits, three of them were already so old that they were unlikely to be adopted: Granny was eight, her daughter Annie was five, and the granddaughter Patty was over three. None of them had been spayed and I knew cancer would be a risk. As it turned out, all three of them succumbed to it. Despite immediate spaying, (all of them had ovarian or uterine growths discovered during the spays), Granny died in less than a year, but Annie and Patty became bonded here. Annie died last fall. Mammary lumps were discovered on Patty’s abdomen in December of 2007 and her primary veterinarian considered her condition terminal, the cancer having spread to her lungs. Although I don’t second-guess my vet, *something* prompted me to get a second opinion this time. A second x-ray did not indicate presence in the lungs and the doctor was willing to remove the growths. Pathology showed it was indeed a fast-spreading type of cancer. During the next 18 months, she had five more surgeries to remove the recurring tumors, in addition to hormone therapy, in an attempt to control the spread of the cancer. Even so, Patty remained a happy, curious rabbit. In mid-2009, when the lumps appeared again, Dr. O. and I decided that yet another surgery was not a practical option for a rabbit of her age and condition. It took from then, until now (December 2009), for the cancer to take over.
During her stay with us, Patty was a bit of a celebrity. She was never afraid of our four large dogs, and she seemed to like interacting with them, climbing on them, jumping over them, and moving their tails whenever they got in her way. With her soft rex fur, beautiful long eyelashes, and super friendly disposition, she was always popular with kids when adopters would visit. But younger rabbits were always chosen over the old ladybun. She became very attached to me, and loved to share mutual grooming sessions if I would lie on the floor with her. She also insisted on being fed FIRST, and was not afraid to follow me around the foster room until she was served. Once I was being interviewed for a documentary on fostering (it’s a work on hold for now), and I decided to sit on the floor with a rabbit sitting on a bale of hay behind me, making an interesting backdrop. I picked Patty because I knew she would sit still eating hay and not go exploring. Suddenly in the middle of questioning, I felt warm breath in my ear and the distinctive touch of a raspy little rabbit tongue licking me. She decided to start grooming me during the interview, right when I was responding to “What is the most rewarding part of fostering?” Of course, I had to answer “Having a foster rabbit giving me bunny kisses.”
See you at the bridge, Patrice! Be good!
Thanks again to everyone. An especially BIG thank you to the sponsors in our sanctuary program. The cost for Patty’s many surgeries and meds would have overwhelmed us if it were not for your extremely generous support. All of BHRS’s fosterers are tremendously grateful for your contributions to the care of these very special rabbits.
Keith Zimmerman
Patty came into foster care in 2003 as part of a family of buns that were in danger of being released into the wild due to the owner being evicted. All were in a poor condition, having survived on little or no water and a diet of stale donuts brought home by their owner. They had lived outdoors in a run that was more than half-filled with piles of feces, so each of them had some degree of sore hocks. The three oldest of these buns were Granny, Patty, and Annie, who were all over the age of five and had not been altered. Annie’s leg had been broken at some time in her life and had healed at an almost 90 degree angle from normal.
Because of their age, we knew they would be difficult to get adopted. Unfortunately, Granny died eight months later from lung cancer. Annie and Patty bonded together and despite their wonderfully friendly personalities, they were repeatedly passed over by adopters in favor of younger buns. In 2006, due to their advanced ages, they were added to the Sanctuary program as un-adoptables.
In November of 2008, Annie became very sick with lung cancer and had to be euthanized. Patty has had three mammary tumors removed over the last two years; however, her health is good and the cancer does not appear to have spread to her lungs. She is a beautiful satin rex girl with long, gorgeous eyelashes! We watch her closely for signs of any additional tumors. All of these girls are textbook examples of why it so vitally important to have pet rabbits (especially females), spayed as soon as they reach adulthood.
were in a poor condition, having survived on little or no water and a diet of stale donuts brought home by their owner. They had lived outdoors in a run that was more than half-filled with piles of feces, so each of them had some degree of sore hocks. The three oldest of these buns were Granny, Patty, and Annie, who were all over the age of five and had not been altered. Annie’s leg had been broken at some time in her life and had healed at an almost 90 degree angle from normal.