(no subject)
While I'm on the photo spree, here is a couple of our giant white/English spotted rabbit, Matilda. She was HUGE and personality plus. She actually got flyblown -- which the vet said ordinarily rabbits just curl up and die from the trauma of being at the vets, but he figured, with her contancerous personality she would be OK.... and she was. And she got the snuffles. And the last bug she got was something that made her have disgusting sloppy pooh (not too good for free-ranging inside and outside) Os and I would have battles trying to get medicine down her -- swearing loudly at each other. "Fucking hold her still!" "Fuckin' get it INTO her mouth" She was so overweight the ruffle around her neck hid her mouth. And we could never pick her up. I think she was 5.7 kilos. Bigger than our largish cat as you will see by the photos.
I found her drowned in the pond. She tried to fight her way out -- and couldn't. When she was fitter she was OK with the pond. Makes my stomach turn. Really crap ending.
Max saw me balling my eyes with the dead wet rabbit in front of me. He sat and looked at me and realised what was wrong. Then he came forward and started licking the rabbit dry for me. Max would do things like that. A very smart/intuitive dog. He died of an unknown bug that he couldn't rid in his system. That afternoon when he was starting to feel better he wandered into the kitchen and ate the cat biscuits on the back doorstep-- looking intently with hate at the cat. Tara was a few metres away seething back. Max hated cats (from living in a terrace with previous owners) but he stopped chasing cats for me.
I found her drowned in the pond. She tried to fight her way out -- and couldn't. When she was fitter she was OK with the pond. Makes my stomach turn. Really crap ending.
Max saw me balling my eyes with the dead wet rabbit in front of me. He sat and looked at me and realised what was wrong. Then he came forward and started licking the rabbit dry for me. Max would do things like that. A very smart/intuitive dog. He died of an unknown bug that he couldn't rid in his system. That afternoon when he was starting to feel better he wandered into the kitchen and ate the cat biscuits on the back doorstep-- looking intently with hate at the cat. Tara was a few metres away seething back. Max hated cats (from living in a terrace with previous owners) but he stopped chasing cats for me.