Change is inevitable. Our bunnies’ health conditions change over their lifetime. Their environments change as they lose companions, and they make transitions into new relationships. Some of these newly formed friendships are between animals with widely diverse physical abilities, and vastly different physical needs.
Quite remarkably, disabled rabbits are able to generate harmonious relationships between rabbits of mixed abilities. They inspire their partners and bring out the best in their nature. No matter what their capabilities are, rabbits with diverse abilities have one thing in common: the emotional need to love and be loved.
Transition One: Buster Gives Support to New Friends
Due to various health conditions, three of my rabbits, Cumin, Bay Leaf, and Oregano, were beginning to lose their hop. [At the same time], Buster lost his long-time buddy, Luke, who had been crippled by leg injuries early in his life. Since Buster already understood living with a friend who had diminished abilities, he appeared capable of applying his TLC to a group of rabbits with progressive illnesses.
Generally, it’s a little more difficult to introduce a single rabbit into a group. However, it is not so difficult when the group is less mobile than the individual being introduced. I knew that Buster, being much more agile than the other three, could easily get away if they showed any aggression (which was not at all the case).
Though their abilities were mixed, their introduction followed the typical pattern for disabled rabbits—it went very smoothly. After only a few bonding sessions in the neutral territory of my front porch, the four bunnies were ready to live together.
The modular housing in the bunny room made the transition quite easy. Two side-by-side living spaces were converted into one simply by taking down the fencing panels that separated them. This left a long, rug-covered area and a hay box, which Buster still uses. Buster has offered his friends snuggles and comfort as their mobility has decreased over the past two years.
Transition Two: Keeping Sinbad Socially Committed
At the far end of the bunny room my sweet and sociable Sinbad had lived with his teacher-partner, Leslie, for several years. Age and degenerative disease immobilized them both. They remained together, supporting each other for many months under “special care” until Leslie passed on—leaving a bereaved and lonely Sinbad without companionship.
With Leslie’s help, Sinbad had made a radical change from a ferocious biting terror to an affectionate cuddly bunny. He could not be allowed to revert to a solitary life that might bring out his former defensiveness. So I decided to try him with the group of four. The first step was getting Buster to accept him and welcome him into the group as one of his “charges.”
“My bunnies invariably demonstrate that they are kinder than humans to their infirmed friends.”
Leaving Sinbad in his former space at the far end of the room, I removed the separating fence so that Buster could come into Sinbad’s territory and get acquainted. Though I supervised their meeting closely, there was not even a hint of hostility. Sinbad was not interested in a fight. He put his head down waiting to be groomed, as he had learned to do from Leslie. Buster had never attacked a disabled rabbit, and he wasn’t about to start. Within a few days all five rabbits were together in one large space in a “snugglefest.”
Transition Three: Adding Dickens Into the Mix
Dickens, a robust and feisty rabbit, has always lived with an impaired partner. When he lost his first love several years ago, I introduced him to Jasmine, who was in slow decline. I set up their living space on a high platform, where I had easy access to Jasmine for constant medicating. My challenge was to provide a padded surface for recumbent Jasmine without allowing Dickens to chew up the bedding. He needed plenty of alternative chewing material as well as time on the floor for exercise.
When Jasmine passed away, I wondered what to do with Dickens. I knew he would have a natural rapport with the disabled group, but blocking the introduction was the able-bodied Buster. I had two healthy males who were used to being boss. But knowing that Buster was where I had to start, I set up their bonding pen in an area where I could monitor constantly. I tried many old bonding tricks, including a smear of applesauce on the top of each head (making each other appealing to lick). At the end of two weeks, I could see no progress and came close to giving up the attempt. But then they made a breakthrough. They could tolerate each other sitting in the same large hay box at the same time.
With the compatibility issue resolved, it was now a matter of tailoring their physical environment to meet everyone’s drastically different needs. I brought Dickens’s belongings (balls and paper bags) down to the lower platform and added Buster’s hay box for a setup appropriate for the two active boys. I removed more fences. Dickens and Buster can run about the bunny room, but more often they choose to sit on the rugs and groom their disabled roommates.
My bunnies invariably demonstrate that they are kinder than humans to their infirmed friends. With generous displays of affection, my two mobile boys take their less mobile companions to the most joyous place in their universe—where individuals of mixed abilities equally experience social interaction with those they love.
