As I write this my 3 year old rabbit is sitting in her hutch looking absolutely fine. I know she’s fine because she spent the morning trying to eat the sucker off Tilly’s arrow and eating hosepipe.
Two weeks ago things were different. Two weeks ago I thought she’d died. I refer you to this blog entry where I discussed how bad I am with dead animals. Or even animals that look like they are dead. Well Petal looked dead from the two metres away where I stood and squealed at Paul. It turns out she was just extremely poorly.
It was a Sunday evening. Of course it was. No-one’s rabbit gets perilously close to death on a week day when the vets are open. Oh no it had to be a Sunday and hence an emergency trip to the pet hospital in Attercliffe. Who knew there was a pet hospital so near a large number of brothels.
I am, of course, exaggerating about how easy it was to ascertain that Petal was near to death. She looked dead, then when we lifted her into the pet carrier she hopped out of it like there was nothing flipping wrong with her. We drove across Sheffield well aware that the appointment alone was going to cost £125 and thinking she looked a lot better really. We didn’t have long in the waiting room during which we very nearly decided to go home to avoid the cost. The short consideration time turned out to be a good thing.
Apparently because rabbits are prey animals they will do anything other than show they are poorly, because then something might eat them. So with her last ounce of willpower she tried to leap off the examination table and gave the vet the run around. Then she flopped over and looked, well, nearly dead.
I won’t go into details about the examination. Sufficed to say there was more flopping over, some scurrying, the insertion of a thermometer somewhere unpleasant and a blood test which confirmed that she was very nearly dead. At one point there was even talk of diabetes. Had I not had pet insurance i might very well have flopped onto my side panting too. The expected cost was £450.
£450 to keep her overnight, give her medicine and fluids and try and get her to eat.
In the morning I had to drive back to Attercliffe and pick her up, terrorising her further by driving her back across town. If rabbits hate having thermometers stuck up their bottoms it’s nothing compared to how much they hate car journeys. I then left her at our vets for the additional sum of £120.
To say my flabber was ghasted would be an understatement.
I mean I do like her but £580 would be enough to fly her to Amsterdam first class to visit her ancestors (she’s a Dutch rabbit). You’d at least expect five star treatment. The hospital she was in was nice I’m sure but she didn’t mention anything about chocolate coins on the pillow.
Just as a point of note, three weeks ago we called our pet insurance to cancel it because £12 per month per bunny seemed expensive. It was a Saturday and they were shut. Thanks be to the god of pets. Otherwise Petal would have been joining the great rabbit warren in the sky.
So now we are back to normal. Two rabbits who can’t seem to stand each other and eat anything and everything they lay their teeth into. And one rabbit who isn’t keen on us going anywhere near her bottom…