Tribbles!
After almost three months, my computer has been fixed and is set up again. I say 'fixed' in a fairly loose sense of the word, as fully TWO of its EIGHT USB ports actually work. Luckily, the electronics graveyard in our storage room yielded a serial port keyboard and so, with no internet service and the local server still packed up, Canti is functioning more or less as normal and, when the external hard drive has been unhooked, will even have a port free for the webcam. I also finally got around to ordering new nibs for my stylus which should arrive in a couple of days, hopefully I have the right ones as the pen and tablet are rather old.
When sorting through my files backed up on the onetouch I found my reference file, and the large collection of photos and my sabbatical from 2d art, much longer than my computer has been nonfunctional, has geared me up for some time spent on my favorite subject: FLCL fanart.
In other news, my doe rabbit just dropped her last litter from my buck who passed away a little less than a month ago-eight kittens which I met just minutes after their birth. I'm so excited, I love the little babies, and can hardly wait until they're ready to be handled in a few days-mommy knows the drill and doesn't care when I pull her babies out but it's to cool for them to be exposed to the air without protection. Yesterday, a couple hours after their birth, I pulled them out again (the first time was a quick head-count and some supplemental KMR to the smallest one) to put a blanket down on the bed floor to keep them from getting cold when they burrow through the hay and fur of their nest and to make visual checks easier as I can pull the whole thing out and not have to get them cold to have a peek, though for now the baby checks consist of my thrusting my fingers down into the insulating layers of their nest and feeling for the warm motion of the bodies.
Though there are multiple kindling boxes with easy-access panels on the side, Widget (mommy) chose a spot in a large hay-filled space under the feeding-station and forcing me to hunker down on my hands and knees with my ass up in the air like an underage hentai girl and reach underneath to touch them-not an easy task considering my less than ideal physical condition (ancient back and leg injuries that result in chronic pain and stiffness that medication only partially relieves, and often reliance on a cane or crutch). I pulled out the kitten blanket, a large comforter that came with our house, and put it over the feeding station and around the sides to provide protection from cool and drafts.
These babies are made more special by the fact that they will, in all likelyhood, be the last baby rabbits I have for a long time. I have a buck who I am keeping, a tiny wildcard from the last litter- a dark brown ticked bunny of a very small size-obviously having inherited this from his dwarf mother (his sisters, more typically colored white with dark english-spot markings, take after their gigantic lab-rabbit father- if Blueberry grows into her ears will be the size of our corgi) and a snuggly and outgoing personality. I haven't decided whether I will let him have a litter before getting him neutered, I would love to let him have babies with the most friendly of my young does, but I haven't decided how I feel about winter and early spring babies.
The hutch/bunny area is a long porch against our house, which must be passed through to get inside. A five-foot high fenced gate swings open to allow access to the rabbits, and let people and animals pass into the kitchen without potentially disturbing or releasing them. Inside their area, the floor is covered with a layer of slightly musty hay from the barn down the road, though the bunnies spend little time on the floor unless they are coming to greet people and animals coming in or using one of the three litter pans. They have a large second level that stretches halfway across the area, a woodpile to climb, a ramp/slide which they scamper up like a child on the playground then slide back down, a log bridge, and a three-level open-sided 'house', the top level of which provides a view out of the large screen windows that look out into what will be, come spring, their outside exercise and grazing area. The manger is stocked daily with fresh greens from outdoors, and the feeding station has two large food bowls-one with standard rabbit ration and one with a high-fat-and-protein mix- and two water bowls. The bunnies have chosen a cardboard box with two round doors as their bed-box.
The rabbits are my physical and mental therapy. After years of working with horses as a profession, my physical condition has deteriorated to the point where I can no longer consistently associate with those wonderful animals-though I just turned thirty I have the careful slow movements of an 'old lady', always reaching for support when I take even a short step up or down and more often than not moving with a slow and limping or shuffling gate that is at odds with the fast fluidity of my more healthy days-though once in a while I will have a good day or week. The occasion is rare when I can handle a horse, and only once every few months can I actually hope to ride for a short time. I still visit the barn every day, though my duties are reduced to feeding and caring for the fifteen rescue chickens and giving feed to the ancient mare Windy. But every three days, at the most, the hay in the rabbit area has to be changed out, and of course there is the daily cleaning of water containers and giving food, gathering greens, and handling the rabbits. The setup allows me to bend down little, and lift nothing but the litterboxes and hay can be swept directly from the door into the yard where the hay, bunny poos, and grain from feed goes directly into either the yard or flower bed.
The gentle physical activity is good for me, providing a couple hours of light exercise I wouldn't otherwise get, but it is mentally even more beneficial. Nothing gives me the feeling of peace and accomplishment like I get when I look at the fresh hay, feed and greens, see the rabbits explore any new features I add on my best days, and see the animals grow and flourish. There are many times when they have saved my life and sanity, when only the thought that they must be cared for keeps me from ending my own life or checking out completely and being returned to the 'mental health clinic'. No matter how bad I feel, when I am perfectly happy to transfer responsibility for the child and dogs to other family members (my daughter spends most days after school with her grandmother at the farm, and the dogs can be released from the back door to run to the nearby studio where all of the dogs are fed together-the cost of dogfood, coffee, and other essentials are shared by the artists who work there, as the animals are welcome and it's the first place we come every day, anyway). The rabbits have become the one thing that I feel I alone can care for the way they need to be, in an emergency I'm sure my husband would give them food and, in the case of an extended absence, they could probably occupy a stall in the barn before being re-homed.
Occasionally, I think about what I'll do when, or hopefully IF, I can no longer perform the activities necessary for their care. I imagine I'll turn my attentions to even smaller mammals, perhaps once again begin to keep my beloved rats.
And thats the news from Lake Woebegone, where all the women are strong, the men are goodlooking, and the children are above-average. ;)
When sorting through my files backed up on the onetouch I found my reference file, and the large collection of photos and my sabbatical from 2d art, much longer than my computer has been nonfunctional, has geared me up for some time spent on my favorite subject: FLCL fanart.
In other news, my doe rabbit just dropped her last litter from my buck who passed away a little less than a month ago-eight kittens which I met just minutes after their birth. I'm so excited, I love the little babies, and can hardly wait until they're ready to be handled in a few days-mommy knows the drill and doesn't care when I pull her babies out but it's to cool for them to be exposed to the air without protection. Yesterday, a couple hours after their birth, I pulled them out again (the first time was a quick head-count and some supplemental KMR to the smallest one) to put a blanket down on the bed floor to keep them from getting cold when they burrow through the hay and fur of their nest and to make visual checks easier as I can pull the whole thing out and not have to get them cold to have a peek, though for now the baby checks consist of my thrusting my fingers down into the insulating layers of their nest and feeling for the warm motion of the bodies.
Though there are multiple kindling boxes with easy-access panels on the side, Widget (mommy) chose a spot in a large hay-filled space under the feeding-station and forcing me to hunker down on my hands and knees with my ass up in the air like an underage hentai girl and reach underneath to touch them-not an easy task considering my less than ideal physical condition (ancient back and leg injuries that result in chronic pain and stiffness that medication only partially relieves, and often reliance on a cane or crutch). I pulled out the kitten blanket, a large comforter that came with our house, and put it over the feeding station and around the sides to provide protection from cool and drafts.
These babies are made more special by the fact that they will, in all likelyhood, be the last baby rabbits I have for a long time. I have a buck who I am keeping, a tiny wildcard from the last litter- a dark brown ticked bunny of a very small size-obviously having inherited this from his dwarf mother (his sisters, more typically colored white with dark english-spot markings, take after their gigantic lab-rabbit father- if Blueberry grows into her ears will be the size of our corgi) and a snuggly and outgoing personality. I haven't decided whether I will let him have a litter before getting him neutered, I would love to let him have babies with the most friendly of my young does, but I haven't decided how I feel about winter and early spring babies.
The hutch/bunny area is a long porch against our house, which must be passed through to get inside. A five-foot high fenced gate swings open to allow access to the rabbits, and let people and animals pass into the kitchen without potentially disturbing or releasing them. Inside their area, the floor is covered with a layer of slightly musty hay from the barn down the road, though the bunnies spend little time on the floor unless they are coming to greet people and animals coming in or using one of the three litter pans. They have a large second level that stretches halfway across the area, a woodpile to climb, a ramp/slide which they scamper up like a child on the playground then slide back down, a log bridge, and a three-level open-sided 'house', the top level of which provides a view out of the large screen windows that look out into what will be, come spring, their outside exercise and grazing area. The manger is stocked daily with fresh greens from outdoors, and the feeding station has two large food bowls-one with standard rabbit ration and one with a high-fat-and-protein mix- and two water bowls. The bunnies have chosen a cardboard box with two round doors as their bed-box.
The rabbits are my physical and mental therapy. After years of working with horses as a profession, my physical condition has deteriorated to the point where I can no longer consistently associate with those wonderful animals-though I just turned thirty I have the careful slow movements of an 'old lady', always reaching for support when I take even a short step up or down and more often than not moving with a slow and limping or shuffling gate that is at odds with the fast fluidity of my more healthy days-though once in a while I will have a good day or week. The occasion is rare when I can handle a horse, and only once every few months can I actually hope to ride for a short time. I still visit the barn every day, though my duties are reduced to feeding and caring for the fifteen rescue chickens and giving feed to the ancient mare Windy. But every three days, at the most, the hay in the rabbit area has to be changed out, and of course there is the daily cleaning of water containers and giving food, gathering greens, and handling the rabbits. The setup allows me to bend down little, and lift nothing but the litterboxes and hay can be swept directly from the door into the yard where the hay, bunny poos, and grain from feed goes directly into either the yard or flower bed.
The gentle physical activity is good for me, providing a couple hours of light exercise I wouldn't otherwise get, but it is mentally even more beneficial. Nothing gives me the feeling of peace and accomplishment like I get when I look at the fresh hay, feed and greens, see the rabbits explore any new features I add on my best days, and see the animals grow and flourish. There are many times when they have saved my life and sanity, when only the thought that they must be cared for keeps me from ending my own life or checking out completely and being returned to the 'mental health clinic'. No matter how bad I feel, when I am perfectly happy to transfer responsibility for the child and dogs to other family members (my daughter spends most days after school with her grandmother at the farm, and the dogs can be released from the back door to run to the nearby studio where all of the dogs are fed together-the cost of dogfood, coffee, and other essentials are shared by the artists who work there, as the animals are welcome and it's the first place we come every day, anyway). The rabbits have become the one thing that I feel I alone can care for the way they need to be, in an emergency I'm sure my husband would give them food and, in the case of an extended absence, they could probably occupy a stall in the barn before being re-homed.
Occasionally, I think about what I'll do when, or hopefully IF, I can no longer perform the activities necessary for their care. I imagine I'll turn my attentions to even smaller mammals, perhaps once again begin to keep my beloved rats.
And thats the news from Lake Woebegone, where all the women are strong, the men are goodlooking, and the children are above-average. ;)