New Year - Back to Bunny Basics

Howdy Doody, Lagomorphaholics!

2012 is nigh over, THANK JESUS! I always look forward to a new year. Mostly, I look forward to putting away Christmas decorations! Well, again, the year is over and if you can believe, Great Lent is coming up upon us again. Us Eastern Orthodox Christians will be celebrating the Lenten Triodion before we can blink a half dozen times.

I started this blog with intentions that didn't quite get lived up to. Somewhere along the way, this blog got to be a million things I never wanted it to be. So my New Year's Resolution is to get it back to basics. Bunny basics, that is. I will still be participating in Friday Flash Fiction 55's because it is addicting and fun. But my main focus will be all things Lagomorpha.

There is ONE reader out there that saw my shame. Last FFF55, before I could delete the words, I went on a very unchristian, shameful rant about Dianne Feinstein.  Thank the Sweet Lord Jesus only one person read those words before I realized what a horrible mistake it was to write them. Whoever that one person is, I want to apologize to you, and beg your forgiveness. I am sorry that you had to see my temperamental  base side. I had NO RIGHT to express my anger in such a crude way.  Just because I COULD DO IT, does not mean I SHOULD DO IT. Those were words I would have taken with me to Judgement Day. I still might.

I want to start 2013 right. I ask all that I might have offended to forgive me, and please, if you have an issue with me, feel free to send me an email. I would love to work things out with you, for the sake of peace, my eternal soul, and most importantly, for our friendship. You can even post your issues on the comment section of this post. I will do my best to work it out with you, and not delete the comments. You are entitled to hold me accountable for my words and actions.

Everyone, please have a warm, safe, happy New Year. Kiss your bunnies at Midnight, don't get too drunk, and above all, be aware of your surroundings if you are going out!

Binkies, nose bonks, and popcorns to every bunny/body!!


X's and O's!
Brandi, Fatty Bun, Minnie Bun, Meany Bun, Spider the Cat, Tiger the Cat (and her unborn cubs) Simon the big ole black lab, and of course BUG, my Pretty Pretty Princess Chihuahua!

All Ready Now for Tiger's Babies

I have decided to keep mama cat. It would be cruel to make her go to another home when she has come to trust us after being a stray! We named her Tiger and when she has her kittens, I will get them sterilized and adopt them out. Even if they end up strays, they at least will have had their rabies shots and won't be able to reproduce. So far I only feel two baby "balls" in her tummy. And they are moving around. I can press and rub them and they go a'hidin'. So cute. If there are only two, I might just keep them. I would feel better knowing they are safe with us.  Jeeezeeepetes! I am NOT a cat person. What am I going to do with all these cats?  If I get too attached, I will end up eyeballing any potential adoptive parents like they are serial killers and meth users. lol.
I got Tiger a nylon, light weight, extra large, travel dog kennel for 26 dollars at Wal Mart last night. She took a big, dog sized crap in her whelping box, so I had to throw that out and I got a potty box to put by her hiding spot and she is using it pretty good. Once she has her kittens, I will keep the familia de la Tigre in the kennel with litter box, food and water, warm blankets.  That kennels is HUGE and she will safe in there.
At PetsMart today there was an adoption event by Safe Haven Rescue. There was a long legged chihuahua mix named Princess and if I did not have Tiger and a litter of kittens coming, I would have snatched up Princess so fast. She was precious, giving all those big dogs the business! I still can't believe I am a Chihuahua person! I was talking about that to another Chi mom in the check out line and she said she was not a chi person either, but it just happened by accident and now she is a chi addict. Every chi person I met has said the same thing!
Oh, all those big beautiful babies there for adoption. It was heartbreaking. Bug only interacted with the Chihuahuas and the cats. lol. A man had a slobbery English Bulldog that wanted to give her love and kisses but she wanted nothing to do with him! Oh he was such a cute little ham! I got me some bulldog kisses. Princess was giving him the business like she was the boss of all the dogs in the world. Crazy girl.
Oh, and I was there at PetsMart to get a big can of milk replacement powder for Tiger so she can have plenty of good, rich milk for them baby tigers. Just sprinkle the dry stuff on her kitten food and make sure she has plenty of fresh water at all times and her milk will make those little assassins grow big and healthy and deadly. lol.
What the heck am I going to do with a freakin' litter of kittens?

Friday Flash Fiction 55 - Generic Rx

"Tequila is no substitute for antidepressants", he said cautiously.
Staring at the spaghetti splattered wall, she lifted the bottle to her mouth and licked the salt slowly from her lips.
"Next time refill your crazy pills BEFORE you run out." He went to bed ill at ease while she sucked on a wedge of lime.

Thanks to the G-Man for hosting! XOXOXO!!

G-Man's Blog

Swamp Rabbit - Sylvilagus aquaticus

Blog Entry about Rabbits inheriting the earth. Like we Rabbit People didn't know THAT!

About the Swamp Rabbit

Happy Birthday Bug!

My pretty pretty princess Chihuahua, Bug, is one year old today. I had to work this day last year, and my friend and coworker, Hope, had her husband come in to the clinic for a bad ear infection. When he got home, ChiChi, Bug's biological mama, was outside and had given birth to a little boy. He later died and they think he just failed to thrive after being born on the cold hard ground and being left there for a time. The others were born in the warm house surrounded by excited little girls.
I have always been a big dog person. I love big lovable beasts. Since I was a little girl, I have never ever been afraid of dogs. I am the nut who will walk up to any dog, rottweiler, pit bull, german shepherd, it does not matter. Stray, in a fence...I LOVE dogs. Ahhh! But I HATED Chihuahuas! A lot of people do. Who wants a yapping snapping ankle biting demon who thinks it's ten feet tall and bullet proof?
When Hope showed me pictures, I was enthralled. And when she showed me the tiny little girl with the long melty shaped heart on her head, I lost it. I was struck by the lightning bolt. I fell deeply in love. She was marked from day one as my girl baby love. Every day that I saw Hope, I would demand more pictures and progress reports. This little puppy was the boldest, fiercest, biggest, bossiest pup of the litter.  Finally, on the Sunday after my 19th wedding anniversary, I got to hold my sweetie. Hope offered me the AKC papers, but that didn't matter because she was going to get spayed. No dog was good enough to touch my precious girl, anyway.  She was so tiny, less than a pound, that you could have fit two of her in the palm of Mr. Bubble's hand with room to spare.
Mr. B liked her and thought she was cute, everyone did, too, even after giving me shit about getting a Chihuahua. What clinched their love for her was a few days later when she almost died.
Mr. B (before he was Mr. B) was in the shower and put her in our room. She got out somehow and Simon bit her on the head. Her head swelled up like a balloon and she cried and cried. Mr. B said it was the most heart breaking sound he ever heard, and gets watery eyed to remember it.  One of the options was put her down. And she was so miserable and pathetic, her eyes swelled shut, that I just wanted to give her peace. Mr. B rescued her. He said that she deserved a chance to live and be given all our efforts. So she stayed in puppy ICU and came home the next day with meds. She cried all that night in my arms and I was up all night just holding her and praying over her to any Saint who would hear me. I was a rough rough night. The next day, William sat at the edge of the bed and she looked over at him, stood up and took two hops at him wagging her tail. I knew right then she would be fine. That was the moment he became Mr. Bubbles, Bug's Big Daddy, her sworn defender and the love of her little life. She may cry for me, but she also knows I am her disciplinarian. Mr. Bubbles is her slave and pushover. He is her best bud, her daddy, her love.
He cries when he thinks of almost twenty years from now when she will be old and someday die. He says he will never love another dog. And he doesn't even like animals that much. He doesn't care that he is a big big dude who wears tshirts and hoodies from heavy metal concerts and looks like an ex-con that would break a person's neck for looking at the sky cross eyed. He holds her proud and tucks her in his sweatshirts.  That is his daughter, his girl baby. When she went into heat for the first time, right before she was spayed, she kept sticking her little fanny in Simon's face. I told Mr. B that she was saying "Hey, Simon, you're an old dog and I'm a new trick!" He would get SO mad at me, yell at Simon (poor old thing was so confused) and told me to quit being an ass.
Today is her birthday, and he can't wait to get home to her. She is laying against me now, covered in a blankie and shivering, trying to get warm.
I am still thrown for a loop when I realize that Mr. B and I are now Chihuahua people!

This was taken after her head healed up. You can see her eyes are wonky. They are ok now, but when she is angry, the one moves all crazy.

Her and my mom's slippers. She had to kill them for some reason.

1. Bug and her brother, Rex. He was my mother-in-law's puppy from the same litter. She is the one getting all up in his butt. She was SO aggressive and dominant. Rex died of parvo.

Aren't those the prettiest ears you have ever seen that were not on a rabbit? When Bug was tiny and smaller than our two pound Lionhead Meany Girl Bunny, Meany Girl would beat the shit out of Bug. Meany has been the only animal that ever got Bug to back down from a standoff! I guess it takes a crazy tiny girl to recognize the craziness in another tiny girl!

Not Quite a Flash Fiction 55 - The Angel in a Jet Plane

 “ ’Scuse me, step aside, move please, coming through here”, said a tiny, bossy voice, as a wave of people parted.

The little child walked up to the throne and laid his elbows on the King’s knees, gazing up.

“What can I do for you” asked the King.

“I want my wings. And a jet plane”, demanded the child

“But if you have wings, why would you need a jet plane?”

“I was gonna be a fighter pilot when I grew up!”

“Fair enough. Granted”, spoke the King. “Anything else?”

The little imp thought about it for a few moments while he played with the King’s long sleeves. His little face was twisting and wrinkling into many thoughtful expressions. Then, with a sad little grin, he looked up at the King, his large eyes innocent and pleading.

“I want to visit my mama and tell her to not cry anymore and that I love it here and since I have a jet plane I can go faster than Michael and Gabriel and all the others!”

The sedatives had put her into a deep sleep. In her dream, she felt the bed bounce, then a warm little body snuggled into her arms. He told her all about the King, the angels, his awesome jet plane and showed her his wings, and even the crown he was given. He talked and laughed deep into the darkest pre-dawn hours. Before he left, he kissed her swollen red eyes shut and told her he would see her someday forever and to not be sad anymore.

When she woke, she could feel the warmth on the bed and smell his hair on the pillow, where there was a downy little feather.  Outside, in the golden pink of the sunrise, a jet plane flew high up in the sky, leaving the sign of its passing.

I tried to write this story in 55 words, but it just didn't fit. I broke the rules a bit, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. God bless you all, and may the Holy Spirit fill you all with His peace and grace.
Thank you, G-Man, for being a splendid host! I hope you are feeling a little better today. This may be the darkest, longest night of the year, and some extinct Mayan hoodoo priest predicted the end of the world, your baby girl is a world away, there are families too filled with grief to even consider joy, the world is filled with evil and evil people. There are people who say that it was only convenient timing with a pagan holiday that sees us celebrating the birth of a God. What a coincidence, huh?
But the Fathers of the Holy Mother Church have always said that God was born at the coldest, longest, darkest time of the year so His light would shine the brightest. Twinkle lights and snowmen, ornaments and eggnog, tinsel and mistletoe, all make a mockery of the seemingly unending darkness.
Of course, all this "churchy" talk might mean nothing to you. In that case, I offer you this wisdom: "The dead know only one thing; it is better to be alive". Pvt Joker, Full Metal Jacket.
And you are alive, my friend...

Troparion of the Feast

"Thy nativity, O Christ our God, 
has shown to the world the light of wisdom;
for by it, those who worshiped the stars
were taught by a star to adore Thee
the Sun of Righteousness,
and to know Thee, the Orient from on high.
O Lord, glory to Thee."

Kontakion of the Feast

"Today the virgin, gives birth to the incomprehensible One;
and the earth offers a cave to the unapproachable One;
Angels and shepherds glorify Him; 
the Wise men journey with a star; 
since for our sake is born the ETERNAL GOD, as a little Child."

Hooray For Bunny Poops!

Meany Girl Bunneh Wunneh. My pretty little dust bunny! She is feeling much better, thank You, Jesus!

My Baby Boy Bunneh Wunneh, I lubs hims! Look how floofy he is, and that is with a recent trim (I took off about one inch all around!). He is a Jersey Woolly. This is why Meany had wool block. She is an obsessive groomer and barbers him too much.

He just has to get into the picture. Ain't he pretty? Spider Cat!

Meany Poops! YAY!!!

This evil harpy bitch lives under the house. She hooked me, AGAIN, while I spooned food into the bowls for her!  I think she is pregnant, which is why I have been giving her food and water several times a day. I need to get a trap. I DO NOT want a litter of kittens under the house in the deep of winter! 

This fat tub-o-lard belongs to someone, but he comes around at feeding time. He is FAT! FAT! FAT! I thought he was a pregnant female once. Nope, just a freeloading hippocat. He is kinda sweet, though. 

Boy, he sure gives her the royal treatment. He is three times her size and can probably kill her with a swipe of his fat paw, but when she hisses, he backs away and waits til she is done with her supper. 

Waiting...waiting...waiting... I caught him at the end of a yawn. 

 

There's Spider, trying to get a load of the action and he was just meowing his goofy head off. 

Mr. Bubbles Says "Rabbit People Are Weird"

Mr. B says us rabbit people are weird. We obsess over poop, pee, teeth, ears, fur, nails, eyes, do full body inspections at least once a day, and spend lots of money on organic, healthy things for the rabbits that we will not even feed our children. Ok, that last part only applies to me, but IF my children liked salads, veggies, and hay, then I would be happy to go to the hippy health food store to buy their greenies.
He also jokes that when it comes down to it, he is going to eat my Minnie Lop first thing, cuz she is so fat that he is sure he can get good a cracklin' skin on her. I told him it would be the last thing he ever ate that was not through a straw if that day ever comes.
The rest of the world does not understand the obsession rabbit people have with their beloved companions. My rabbits have taught me to be gentler, kinder, a better steward. You cannot be in a negative or over excited state of mind and be around rabbits. Wanting to be around rabbits requires a person to quiet their mind, slow their hearts a bit, deepen and slow their breathing, to take a  moment to calm themselves.
As for poop, well, poop is EVERYTHING. A rabbit runs on its gut. It is a finely tuned machine that needs constant monitoring, calibration, maintenance, and tweaking. That is why my bunns get the best I can afford. If I had to choose between my diabetes medicine and good bunny food, I would choose the bunny food.
Mr. Bubbles may be right. We are a little weird, us bunny people.

Princess Trippin' Balls

I think Ms. Meanie Girl Bunneh Wunneh likes the Metacam a little too much...she horked down the last dose.
She is eating hay again but her poops are still misshapen and too small. They are also a little too hard. Until I like what I see, she is getting dosed with EVOO twice a day, with a nice long drink of warm water after. She is so cute, she lets me dose her water and olive oil with a Chinese soup spoon.
Oh, she had a weird, elongated poop that pure fuzz when I broke it apart to inspect it. She is pooping and eating, so I am thankful to Jesus for that! One more dose of Metacam and that should be enough for her. The little junkie.

Pretty Princess Trippin' Balls, the Metacam Junkie! My precious little Dustbunny!

Meanie Girl with Minnie, aka Fatty Boom Boom (her "stripper" name. I have a weird family of males)

Minnie aka Fatty Boom Boom, aka Biggun', aka We're Eatin' Her First, aka Eeny Minnie Miney Moe, or just Moe, aka Fat Rolls

She is my pretty pretty Minnie Minnie!

The new x-pen set up in the breakfast nook attached to the kitchen. They love the tile, the sillies. 

I am all out of greens, but they are going to have a nice juicy bell pepper for lunch.   So I better hop to it before I am getting thumps of disapproval.

Wool Block - Olive Oil, Warm Water and PUMPKIN

My Meanie Girl has a bit of a tummy ache going on. I noticed she was was a little listless this morning and not being her bossy bitchy self. I also noticed that there were not a whole lot of her poops and what few there was were like the little rocks you find in bags of pinto beans. My grandmother broke a tooth on one of those damned rocks in her youth! I gave her a dose of Metacam, a dose of Little Tummies simethicone for gas, and rubbed her tummy and manipulated her legs and tail to get her gut churning. When I listened for gut noises, I heard nothing. When I fed them their greens, she ate a few leaves, but did not dive right in as usual. I know it's wool block and not stasis because Minnie passed a fecal that was long and when pulled apart, was nothing but wool. So EVERY bunny got a dose of extra virgin olive oil today. Meanie also barbers and grooms obsessively, so I am betting she has a nice big blob of wool in her tum. When I checked her bum, she had a little hard piece of poop stuck inside the opening of her vent.
I have been forcing water, even though she is drinking, and syringing her a mixture of pumpkin, olive oil, hot water and a crushed papaya tablet.  She is devouring this mixture, so I am very glad of that.
This evening I noticed she has been avoiding the other bunnies and sitting in the crinkle tunnel. When I touched her ears they were cold. I brought her into bed with me and cuddled her up, rubbed her tummy and got her nice and warm.
My poor little baby girl. She doesn't even have the heart to be mean to me. That has me worried. She is just so tiny, and weighs less than two pounds.
I dose her again in a little bit with Metacam and simethicone.

If I Forget Thee, O Jerusalem...!

For us in these modern days, the following Psalm has a symbolic meaning. The Fathers of the Holy Mother Church say that Jerusalem is HOME, Jerusalem is all the fine, beautiful, grace-filled, innocent, marvelous, holy, divine, Heavenly things that we must cling to in our hearts. Not just New Jerusalem, which is the Kingdom of Heaven, but all the things that are within that kingdom, all the things that are outside that Kingdom trying to get in, all the things that strain their faces toward the divine sunlight that emits from those gates.
In The Brothers Karamazov, one grieving father used it as a lament for his dead son. He said "Oh Jerusalem, Jerusalem, if I forget thee...". The son had already entered that Kingdom which was already in full glory in his heart.
Here is the full Psalm:

Psalm 137 King James Version

---

1By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion.

2We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof.

3For there they that carried us away captive required of us a song; and they that wasted us required of us mirth, saying, Sing us one of the songs of Zion.

4How shall we sing the LORD'S song in a strange land?

5If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning.

6If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy.

7Remember, O LORD, the children of Edom in the day of Jerusalem; who said, Rase it, rase it, even to the foundation thereof.

8O daughter of Babylon, who art to be destroyed; happy shall he be, that rewardeth thee as thou hast served us.

9Happy shall he be, that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the stones.

Earlier in the story:

"What are you weeping for?"

"It's my little son I'm grieving for, Father. he was three years old- three years all but three months. For my little boy, Father, I'm in anguish, for my little boy. He was the last one left. We had four, my Nikita and I, and now we've no children, our dear ones have all gone I buried the first three without grieving overmuch, and now I have buried the last I can't forget him. He seems always standing before me. He never leaves me. He has withered my heart. I look at his little clothes, his little shirt, his little boots, and I wail. I lay out all that is left of him, all his little things. I look at them and wail. I say to Nikita, my husband, 'let me go on a pilgrimage, master.' He is a driver. We're not poor people, Father, not poor; he drives our own horse. It's all our own, the horse and the carriage. And what good is it all to us now? My Nikita has begun drinking while I am away. He's sure to. It used to be so before. As soon as I turn my back he gives way to it. But now I don't think about him. It's three months since I left home. I've forgotten him. I've forgotten everything. I don't want to remember. And what would our life be now together? I've done with him, I've done. I've done with them all. I don't care to look upon my house and my goods. I don't care to see anything at all!"

"Listen, mother," said the elder. "Once in olden times a holy saint saw in the Temple a mother like you weeping for her little one, her only one, whom God had taken. 'Knowest thou not,' said the saint to her, 'how bold these little ones are before the throne of God? Verily there are none bolder than they in the Kingdom of Heaven. "Thou didst give us life, O Lord," they say, "and scarcely had we looked upon it when Thou didst take it back again." And so boldly they ask and ask again that God gives them at once the rank of angels. Therefore,' said the saint, 'thou, too, O Mother, rejoice and weep not, for thy little son is with the Lord in the fellowship of the angels.' 

Friday Flash Fiction 55 - Do You Recall the Most Famous Gin Blossom of All?

 “He’s a damned drunk but our hands are tied. He’s too connected.”

“Just whack him.”

 “Maybe there’s another solution”, he said, pointing his cigarette toward the door. “Get marketing in here.”

The elves later toasted their genius at the movie premier. “To us and to Rudy’s gin blossom!”

“I still think we should've whacked him…”

Rudolph

VS

W.C. Fields

Who Wore It (Gin Blossom) Better?

Thanks for being the Host with the Most from Coast to Coast, G-Man!

That Dang Ole Cat!

As many of you bunny parents know, the three-way-bond is not easy. Since getting my pretty girl Minnie, things are a little strained in the pen. Yes, they all get along OK  but only Minnie and Fatty seem to have bonded. And of course, Fatty and Meany are bonded. Poor guy, he has two wives and they don't like each other much. No, they don't fight, but Meany is a bit of a...well...MEANY towards Minnie and even Fatty when he is snuggled with Minnie. However, the last two or three days, I have seen Minnie and Meany snuggled together and grooming each other. It is very sweet. I think they are finally solidly bonded. This morning, I see all three grooming each other back  and forth. It was so precious. Then Spider gets all nutso and starts knocking stuff off the table, chasing Bug, and just being his normal obnoxious self. He knocks over something with a loud crash and the three bunnies, who were just being so darn cute (you had to see it) grooming each others' heads and ears and such, get startled and scatter to the wind. Leave it to the cat to cause commotion. This is why I can't have a Christmas tree!
I do love that freakin' cat, though. He likes to sit on the counter while I cook, just watching me and trying to paw at the food. The other day, I had a container of oats opened and I walked away for just a second, turn around, and he had his fat paw in the container digging out the oats! I had made soup and put a bowl in the counter, he puts his front paws in the bowl and just sits there! He licks the mayonnaise, butter, tomatoes...he is such a weirdo. He eats hay and rabbit food, too. And as big as he is, even though technically he is still a kitten, he still suckles on Bug's neck like a baby and she just lays there, licking his ears.
I have NEVER been this attached to a cat. He is so funny, endearing, infuriating, and adorable all at the same time.
RG is right. Cats are weird.

Watership Down Movie

The book is better (ain't it always), and I encourage everyone to add it to their reading lists! Here is full movie version on YouTube. It is colder than a witch's titty wearing a brass bra in the Klondike this morning here in Oklahoma. The water I left out for the stray cats is frozen solid! It was 19 degrees when I got up this morning. I LOVE IT!!!!! I feel so alive! Curl up with a hot cup of tea or coffee or cocoa, and enjoy rabbits killing each other. I must be getting tough in my old age. The end of the movie and the book used to make me ball my eyes out. 

Stay warm, Lagomorphophiles!

Friday Flash Fiction 55 - The Banshee

He chases aspirin with mescal and waits miserably for the headache and bleeding to stop. 

Again the banshee flies at him screeching. 

“¡Callate!” he yells, hurling the bottle at her. 

“Shut up shut up!” she mocks in English, dodging the projectile worm.  

He spots his machete and wonders suddenly if cockatoo tastes anything like chicken. 

I want everyone, especially animal lovers, namely bird lovers, chiefly cockatoo lovers, to understand this 55 is a cautionary tale. Yes, I meant it to be a little dark, twisted, and funny. However, as I explained in a previous post comparing birds and rabbits, too many people have stupid and ignorant ideas about what it means to adopt a companion exotic bird. Imagine the next fifty years of your life dealing every day with an ADHD two year old on a perpetual cocaine and gummy bears binge, demanding your constant attention and pitching screaming, screeching, eardrum rupturing fits. These creatures can drive you insane, as you see with our fictional "hero" above. Well, in his case, his gringo wife left him for another man and did not take the bird with her. The beast is an enigma.  They both are hurt and confused by the sudden departure of the woman from their lives. The bird is a constant reminder of his ex-wife, and he is a constant reminder of the cockatoos beloved mistress. Their shared misery should draw them closer together, but instead drives them both insane. Now I only have 55 words to tell this complicated tale of love, betrayal and madness! So, it is hoped that with those 55 words, the rest of the story will easily unwind in your head. This 55 flash fiction thing is HARD!!! I mean, gosh golly gee willikers! I write a 55 about a nutty woman poisoning her lover's new neighbor simply because she happens to be pretty and no one bats an eye. Write a 55 about a man taking a machete to a cockatoo and the interwebs would shit a cuckoo clock for sure. This postscript is the explanation to this 55.  Enjoy. Or not. But rest assured, no cockatoos, mescal worms, hussy gringo wives, or loco cuckolded Mexicans were harmed in the making of this this story.

Thanks, G-Man, for hosting!

Breeders - Bold or Careless?

If a breeder CAN do something, does that mean they SHOULD do it?  Better question yet, do they have the RIGHT to do it? I for one would never eat rabbit meat, any more than a cat lover would eat cat meat. However, I do understand that people breed rabbits for meat, and that some of the most amazing pet bunnies are the products of breeders attempting to create a better source of meat from those rabbits. Genetics is an amazing science.

But what happens when breeding goes...awry? Wonky? Just plain ole strange? Is it responsible breeding and good stewardship to allow such anomalies as seen in the photos below to continue, to allow recessive traits to dominate, even when those traits would normally be weeded out by nature and natural selection if not for human interference?

Keep in mind that the person writing the article does not say WHO bred the rabbits, so don't flip your lids on their website. It is an old article as well. Click on the links and you will see more hairless rabbits. This is not cute, not at all. Nor is it fair to the bunnies. 

Hairless Rabbits -NOT an Amazing Anomaly, but CRUEL and Irresponsible of Breeders

Source of Photographs in the Link Above

 If I have said it once, I have said it a thousand times, that we will all answer for our bad stewardship, in one way or another, in this life or the next. And ignorance then, now, always, in this world and the next, is never an excuse for doing something you should never have done, just because you could do it in the first place. 

Edward Curtis - Native America Photo Odyssey

Edward Curtis was a photographer obsessed with chronicling the last of the Native American tribes in photographs. Aunt Jane sent this article to me and I want to share it with you all.
Read the Article Here