Bunny Deux: Electric Bunnaloo

13 May IMG_8407

It took two weeks of caring for my wee baby bunny, Frankie, to realize a couple of things:


1.  I am a rabbit person. 


I love dogs. I tolerate cats (allergic to most, with the exception of Maine Coon Cats). I am obviously not a cat person (before anyone gets all knotty in the britches, I like cats if they belong to other people. I just don’t want felines of my own.)  I am surprised to find out that maybe I am not a dog person either.  I am a rabbit person.


2.  Baby rabbits have boundless energy.  I do not. 


3.  Having only my one kid (the human one) has been gnawing at me forever and as I have been closing in on forty it has been gnawing less idlly and more with the ferocity of a beaver on a dam mission or a wood chipper on a past it’s prime Christmas tree.


4.  No. 2 has helped emmensely in coming to reasonable terms with No. 3.



Still, No. 2 kept needling at me kind of in the way Frankie’s tiny baby bunny talons do as he climbs all over me like I’m the strategy board for his future takeover of everything that is and will be.  


I read up, like the diligent autodidact I am and came to realize that the guinea pigs were a gateway pet and now, to preserve sanity (mine) and improve the life of my newest little one, I would have to find a suitable, Lagomorph life partner for Frank.  Also, playtime with the piggies wasn’t cutting it (though it was adorable as there was a definite kinship and the piggies followed him around with the glee of toddlers after an older sibling, complete with adorable waddling and urinating during play) and as Frankie started physically eclipsing Oliver and Dave, the safety of the pigs was becoming a concern (guinea pigs are extra delicate when challenged by the strong hind quarters and boisterous boinging of a bunny). 


There were many considerations.  Most of them had much to do with avoiding the conception of a billion baby bunnies in my condo.  As I was planning on having Frank, and any additional rabbits, neutered/spayed, I decided another boy bunny would be the best partner for him, unless I could find a snipped cougar bunny and fast as he needed bunny companionship to help meet his energy.  


And then this showed up on Craigslist: 

  

  

There was a note on the listing saying that the last rabbits would have to be sold by 5pm or those baby bunnies would be heading for “Freezer Camp”.  The picture is of the blue Silver Fox buck/boy.  He was the same age as Frank. FREEZER CAMP. 


*gulp*


I knew I was in trouble.  I knew I, even though I am not a vegetarian, would not be able to withstand the burden of knowing this particular creature was killed because I didn’t take action.  (Don’t fret, herbivore friends, I battle with my own hypocritical thoughts and behaviors each and every time I slip on my shoes or raise a physician prescribed nibble of flesh to my lips. I do.)


I talked to my kid about it and read him the craigslist ad.  


“We need to go get that bunny, Mama.”


So we did.


We put Frank in his hamper, hopped in the car, and drove up to Port Charlotte to meet Otis.  


That’s when we learned that Frank is a really tiny, possibly dwarf, rabbit.


Otis is a meat rabbit.  READ:  very large.  Frank: 1.5lb  Otis: over 8lbs. (Frank has since grown quite a bit but is clearly the racing model to Otis’ utility/tank/steamroller body type). 



Here’s Otis, at home, the first week.

  


  



There is more to the whole Otis tale, but it just dawned on me that I have gone completely non-linear.  I think I failed to post anything about how I went to go get hay for the Guinea Pigs and there were baby bunnies and I put my hand in their enclosure and this little black and white bunny, who looked kind of like a Boston Terrier and a bit like a French Bulldog with bigger ears, immediately started licking my hand.  I asked to hold him. I did. And an hour later Frankie was settling into life at home and I was frantically reading everything about rabbits. 


Here’s baby Frank:  


  




And fast forward a couple of months…

  

Before you are pummeled by the irresistible cute of a baby bunny,  please please please do your research to prepare for their needs.  They are a joy and require very specific and constant, involved care.  One fantastic resource is the House Rabbit Society. 





The Obsessive Joy Of Autism

5 Mar

Bek:

This: “If I could change three things about how the world sees autism, they would be these. That the world would see that we feel joy—sometimes a joy so intense and private and all-encompassing that it eclipses anything the world might feel. That the world would stop punishing us for our joy, stop grabbing flapping hands and eliminating interests that are not “age-appropriate”, stop shaming and gas-lighting us into believing that we are never, and can never be, happy. And that our joy would be valued in and of itself, seen as a necessary and beautiful part of our disability, pursued, and shared.”

Originally posted on Just Stimming...:

I am autistic. I can talk; I talked to myself for a long time before I would talk to anyone else. My sensory system is a painful mess, my grasp on language isn’t always the best, and it takes me quite some time to process social situations. I cannot yet live on my own or manage college or relationships successfully. I can explain, bemoan, and wish away a lot of things about me and my autism: my troubles finding the right words to say what I really mean, my social processing lag and limits, my rubbery facial expressions, my anxiety, my sensory system’s dysfunctions, my brain’s tendency to get stuck in physical self-destruct mode and land me in the ER. I can complain about the suckiness of being socialized and educated as an autistic and as an outsider, about lack of supports and understanding and always needing to educate.

One…

View original 923 more words

Please welcome…

12 Feb

Oliver
image

& Dave!
image

Kid has been talking about adding a furry critter to our family for quite some time. I’ll admit that I have been entertaining that idea for a very long time.

I really wanted to adopt a rescue pup, but right now I’m barely coping with the second bout of severed iron deficiency in under 6 months. I feel lousy. Walking a dog a few times a day just is too much to ask of this sore body with it’s tired blood.

Not that these cutie pies don’t require lots of care and attention.

They need so much more EVERYTHING than I would have ever imagined, even after reading everything I could set my eyeballs on.

They do not need to be walked, though.

Everything else can be spread throught the day, especially the snuggles and playtime and the neverending supply of hay and veggies.

So far, so wonderful.

Kid is over the moon and we are all very attached to our new family members and they are settling in nicely.

Electricity

16 Aug www.sunshinepostcards.com

I caught this to share with you…

I watched the night sky crack over and over again.

The pulses of light were like memories returned.

A few moments (a long, thirteen second exposure) calcified, concentrated on my screen (once the vocal billows rumbled past and I could plug in again),  and the fine, reaching, dendritic threads appeared and yes, this is precisely how it feels to have lost moments returned after a decade or more.

One small sparkle reaches and branches into more crackles into cracks like a heavy foot on the lake, not yet settled fully into winter.

People can tell me a memory, but it just doesn’t feel true, organic, like the deep in every cell, electrifying every nerve of a firsthand memory, and these second hand memories just can’t capture the intricacies of how my senses & mind focus and capture each morsel, waft, tactile, auditory, proprioceptive vision in an overloaded, carnival ride.

Each large crack, each branch, each baby eyelash and hair-thin thread a sensory memory, each grouping creating a breathing, visual, auditory, wildly flavorful, supersaturated, olfactory snapshot in time, in my strange and wonderful curious, thirsty, synesthetic, autistic, insomniac, famished brain.

It is electrifying.

-b.

You might be an autism parent if….

6 Aug

You might be an autism parent if...

You put chocolate hazelnut butter in the nutribullet to smooth out some of the natural graininess to make it more palatable for your texture-sensitive kid.

(Note:  this experiment would have worked a bit better with a larger amount of this tasty stuff.  Unfortunately, I didn’t even think of getting him to try it again until I had polished off almost the whole jar. It’s not like I went weeks without that occurring to me.  A jar of Justin’s Chocolate Hazelnut blend only lasts a couple of days, at most, around here. It’s irresistible. Really. Our supermarket and Target both carry it, and the Maple Almond (so good on cinnamon toasts). You can also find it on Amazon: Justin’s)

He did ok with the Chocolate-Hazelnut, on warm toasted baguette, but not that enthusiastic.  He did eat three pieces of toast (small pieces) slathered with it, though, and that’s freaking amazing.   I also got him to eat three (individual raviolis) Amy’s frozen Ravioli even though they clearly had some degree of tomato sauce on them (I scraped off as much as I could. How am I the only person in our family who has zero Italian roots and I’m the only one who will touch a tomato, or sauce?!).  YES!

I’m still finding protein and fresh veggies to be a challenge for him, as he won’t eat nuts (Barney Butter thankfully is smooth enough, and available at Publix and Target(woohoo!) that he accepts it as a peanut butter substitute, as PB is off our menu due to G6PD Deficiency), can’t eat legumes (again, G6PD Deficiency is a factor) and he is mostly vegetarian (we are not, but he just can’t deal with the tearing and chewing of ANY meats), so he consumes quite a bit of milk and I make him a super-smoothie every couple of days with bananas, berries, hemp seed, almond butter, chia seed, yogurt, etc..to try to get at least some variety, as far as nutrients go, into him. He also really likes Life cereal and Cheerios, so at least those are fortified. He is growing and healthy, and the kid has a brain on him, so this seems to be working. Of course, I’ll never stop introducing new foods to him and now that he is older, he doesn’t protest but instead tries everything (serious progress!), so it is easier.

You can share your “You might be an autism parent if…” moments on two fantastic facebook pages:  You might be an autism parent if. and one of my favorite special needs parenting resources/communities:  Shut Up About Your Perfect Kid (seriously, if you don’t have the book, you NEED their book AND their Facebook community/page.  This was the first thing I read when I realized that this journey was veering way off path (and at the time, through what looked like an impassable thicket, plenty of prickers, nests of dangerous beasties, etc)…  Here’s a link to the book on Amazon: Shut Up About Your Perfect Kid: A Survival Guide for Ordinary Parents of Special Children.

I also got him to eat fresh cherries (not fresh picked, fresh from the supermarket… we have been mostly housebound this summer… long story for another time) WITH the stem and stone intact!  So I’m not rocking the Lady Macbeth manicure from pitting the damn cherries this go around.  Here he is, after I carefully demonstrated and gave him instructions on how not to break his teeth but still enjoy a good, sweet, juicy cherry.

untitled-2.jpg

A frozen cherry did not fare as well:

Found it.

Peace,

Bek

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 8,093 other followers

%d bloggers like this: