Thursday, February 15, 2007
After the vet appointment last Saturday during which I was told to ditch the pellets, I...ditched the pellets. Into my yard. (There are wild rabbits who frequent my yard, although the only sign I ever see are their tracks.)
At night, before bed, the dispensing of fresh hay is met with a general happiness. The morning pellet feeding, however, is a time of unbounded delerium: the rabbit room door is opened and two black-and-white 5-lb. blurs come flying past my ankles, running in circles around the living room, weaving down the hallway, turning in the bedroom and scorching back to the rabbit room, where they circle and dance and ARE SO EXCITED to have their morning pellets (it is this particular routine that has caused every pet sitter I've ever hired to decide that she must have bunnies). They know they are fed separately, so Lola jumps into the hutch expectantly while Rudy waits at my feet.
This morning, no pellets. I'd fed the cats and, when I opened the rabbit-room door, was met with the usual frenzy of anticipation, but confusion set in when it became clear that I did not have bowls of pellets. The bunnies sat next to each other on the floor, looking stunned as I headed for the hay closet. I grabbed a nice handful of hay, put it in their box, and said, "Hey, Guys, look. Nice hay. TASTY hay."
I do not exaggerate: They looked at me, looked at each other, and simultaneously shot out of the room and headed for Harry's kibble bowl. Rudy stood to the side while Lola literally shoved her head UNDER Harry's feeding mouth and started snarfing kibble. I managed to grab her before a very confused and irked Harry fully realized what was happening, and got both rabbits secured before long.
It's been a few days now and I think they're adjusting, but I still catch them looking at me oddly, as if to say, "What did we do?"