Tag Archives: meat

Bunny Deux: Electric Bunnaloo

13 May

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. 





Islands in the stream….

18 May

Islands in the stream….

Originally uploaded by CleverIndie

That is what we are…

Anyway… Where was I…

Kiddo is a picky eater- he’ll try most anything, but he’s a creature of habit and has sensory issues- so he’s very specific about what he likes and what he loathes…. (and if he changes his mind he will admit nothing!)…

So, he likes everything bagels, corn, and cheese….

So I popped the bagel (with some shredded cheese) in the Rocket Grill and it squished the daylights out of it! So I put it on a plate, put two little morsels of grilled (rocket grilled, baby!) chicken “sunning” on the Isle of Bagel…Of course, the sun is powerful (sun=corn in nifty little pinch bowls…pinch bowls are a lifesaver when you have a kid who cannot handle different foods even seeing each other, never mind *gasp* touching…)

The broccoli is a unique specimen of palm, found only on the Isle of Bagel. By the way, the stars in the blue sea are starfish, and that orange slice toward the back is the mainland (ok, ok, it’s one of those make-a-plate things and it’s an orange moon and a starry night sky)…

So, why does food need this backstory?

Because my kiddo is *that* detailed. He is also very rules based, so artistic presentations of food challenges his deeply ingrained meal & food rules in a fun and somewhat novel way. It’s fun, he’ll argue with me that the palm tree is really broccoli, if he’s tired I know better than to present anything with even .05% whimsy or all hell will break loose. We are working hard to soften some of his rules and his rigidity as living in the world with other people often requires compromise and a little grace and we are getting there, albeit very slowly. How slowly? He’s rules based, he has no gray area, he can’t generalize, so if a scenario is not repeated exactly (ie temperature, light, people present, etc…) he can’t apply the new rule or the exception to the rule, or even withdraw a generalization from his brain/bank to really understand or function reliably.

If you don’t know any kids who are this rigid- imagine potty training a child at home and then take them to grandma’s- most kids can apply their at home potty training to other locations (sometimes with a little urging or reminder and a little modification on everyone’s part)- they can ignore the variables-to a point- and find the constants (the potty, having to pee, etc). Alex can’t ignore the variables so he can see the constants clearly. In the potty training scenario, if you switch up the variables from his home/training base, it’s like he has never seen a toilet in his life and you have to start from square one. (and this isn’t a far off analogy- I was on the verge of making a public restroom scrapbook for him so we could study up before leaving the house- and so we could focus on the visual similarities in the comfort of our home). Is everything this intricate and challenging? Yes. It isn’t getting easier as time goes on, but it is changing, so there is no such thing as boredom. And in all this I can’t stop marveling at the details he notices- it’s like wearing reading glasses- he can see the words clearly but all else disappears…It’s like he can read the words and get sucked into the story but if you ask him about the physical book he has no idea what you are talking about… Raising Alex has made us appreciate the intricacies of thought and reasoning and creativity. Ok, now where was I? :-)

Last night he was in a good mood. He let me explain the food to him. He announced “I like my food plain” and I countered with “it is very plain, I just put it on your plate a little differently”. He hesitated and quickly gobbled up the sun/corn…

I showed him how he can pull a little bit off of the chicken to just taste it (chewing meat type stuff makes him gag or hurl- depending on how far he is into the meal)… And he tasted it and then even ate another little piece without our urging.

Unfortunately, the rocket grill turned the cheese bagel into a crispy, tasty grilled panini sort of a thing, and it was too dense for him to chew (without again gagging…)…

But I feel triumphant… The chicken was no longer stranded as it swam into his mouth and down to his tummy…

Alex declared that it was turning to night as he gobbled up the corn (thereby making the “sun” go down)…

He wouldn’t try the broccoli until I remembered the key to a 5 year old boy’s laughter. He wouldn’t buy the tree devouring giant scenario and then I remembered…

I whispered to him that broccoli magically transforms into horrific, near deadly, rank gas when you eat it.

He giggled and took a bite…

Victory is mine.

By the way, I just received a copy of the Sneaky Chef cookbook in the mail… I’ll comb through it with an eye toward sensory defensiveness (particularly my kiddo’s, but there seem to be a few people cooking for kids like Alex and more typically developing kids seem to have many of the same food quirks) and let you know if it’s worth the purchase… I think kids can learn the joy of healthy foods without hiding them, but when dealing with sensory issues sometimes you have to go behind the scenes, hide the good stuff, and reveal it slowly… And sometimes you have to play with the food.

xo
Bek

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