Zarla
Alpha Buck
Have you ever experienced a sudden crisis with your rabbit that had a happy ending?
Mine occurred in February 2009. I remember the date because there had been blizzards the day before - the heaviest snowfall in London since 1991. All the schools were closed and Boris had even shut down the London bus service for the first time in its history.
Around 11pm I noticed my house rabbit Squee was drinking from her water bowl every five minutes - most unusual. She was ignoring her food but dashing around more than normal. I've noticed with bunnies that they sometimes try to 'outrun' pain or discomfort when they first experience it, so I started watching her very carefully.
About 15 minutes later she began making an odd coughing sound every few minutes, whilst still drinking gallons of water. Her partner Benji was following her around looking very worried.
I picked Squee up and tried to see if there was anything in her mouth she might be choking on but she wouldn't let me part her jaws and struggled to get free. She was always my trickiest bunny when it came to handling.
"We'll take her to the vet in the morning," said my husband.
"I think tomorrow will be too late," I replied.
It was now midnight. Neither of us owned a car and what public transport there was that day had finished. Squee stayed the same, still the weird rattling cough every few minutes.
Husband: "Most taxis won't come out in this weather and they'll charge a fortune if they do."
I ignored him, phoned the emergency vet and was told to take her to the 24 hour clinic in Hendon, 15 minutes away by car. I rang round and found a taxi willing to do the journey for double price.
Half an hour later we got to the vet and were seen straight away. By now I was convinced Squee was dying and was in floods of tears. They took her into the back room, then reappeared just ten minutes later. The vet's nurse was smiling and holding Squee and stroking her. The vet held out something on the end of a surgical tool - a long thick skein of fur.
"Does she live with another rabbit?"
"Yes - a really fluffy lionhead."
Squee had been grooming Benji enthusiastically and got his fur trapped in the back of her throat, but the vet had managed to remove it. She was so lucky to be seen by people who knew what to look for!
They charged £100 and the taxi was £60 but it was more than worth it to save her life. Benji had grown extra thick fur in response to the very cold weather which might have caused the problem, as thankfully it never happened again.
Mine occurred in February 2009. I remember the date because there had been blizzards the day before - the heaviest snowfall in London since 1991. All the schools were closed and Boris had even shut down the London bus service for the first time in its history.
Around 11pm I noticed my house rabbit Squee was drinking from her water bowl every five minutes - most unusual. She was ignoring her food but dashing around more than normal. I've noticed with bunnies that they sometimes try to 'outrun' pain or discomfort when they first experience it, so I started watching her very carefully.
About 15 minutes later she began making an odd coughing sound every few minutes, whilst still drinking gallons of water. Her partner Benji was following her around looking very worried.
I picked Squee up and tried to see if there was anything in her mouth she might be choking on but she wouldn't let me part her jaws and struggled to get free. She was always my trickiest bunny when it came to handling.
"We'll take her to the vet in the morning," said my husband.
"I think tomorrow will be too late," I replied.
It was now midnight. Neither of us owned a car and what public transport there was that day had finished. Squee stayed the same, still the weird rattling cough every few minutes.
Husband: "Most taxis won't come out in this weather and they'll charge a fortune if they do."
I ignored him, phoned the emergency vet and was told to take her to the 24 hour clinic in Hendon, 15 minutes away by car. I rang round and found a taxi willing to do the journey for double price.
Half an hour later we got to the vet and were seen straight away. By now I was convinced Squee was dying and was in floods of tears. They took her into the back room, then reappeared just ten minutes later. The vet's nurse was smiling and holding Squee and stroking her. The vet held out something on the end of a surgical tool - a long thick skein of fur.
"Does she live with another rabbit?"
"Yes - a really fluffy lionhead."
Squee had been grooming Benji enthusiastically and got his fur trapped in the back of her throat, but the vet had managed to remove it. She was so lucky to be seen by people who knew what to look for!
They charged £100 and the taxi was £60 but it was more than worth it to save her life. Benji had grown extra thick fur in response to the very cold weather which might have caused the problem, as thankfully it never happened again.
