On Thursday, my husband had a minor freak accident. He's a painter, and while working on a deck, somehow managed to get a very large sliver of wood through his painter's pants and into his calf. He thought he had pulled it out, but the leg was still very painful. By 11:00pm that night, he realized that something was still not right and made a trip to the ER.
After he left, I let Mickey out for his nighttime run. I always let him out late at night after my husband has gone to bed so that he doesn't get underfoot around my husband and so my husband doesn't have to deal with getting around bunny gates when he wants to go in and out of the living room (where Mickey is not allowed most of the time). Lately, Mickey's been getting bolder about going up and down the hallway and in and out of the bathroom, but since my husband keeps the bedroom door closed when he goes to bed, I don't have to worry about Mickey getting in there.
My husband (to be referred to as Hubby in here because, like the boy, he wants no part of being named in a bunny blog) came home at about 1:30am, along with a new souvenir; the one-and-a-quarter inch piece of wood that had been embedded in his calf about a half-inch under the skin. As Hubby made his way to the kitchen to get a drink, Mickey immediately bopped over to see what he was doing and proceeded to stick himself on the wrong side of the fridge door. This amused my husband, who began to very slowly close the door, figuring Mickey would get the hint and move out of the way. No such luck; Mickey held his ground, poking his nose at the drawer where his greens are kept, ignoring Hubby's urgings to get out of the way until I came over and moved him.aside. Once moved, he immediately began sniffing at and following my husband's feet as Hubby tried to leave the kitchen. Hubby managed to keep from tripping over Mr. Nosy Bun, and went into the bathroom.
Guess who went in right after him?
Again, Hubby was amused by his fuzzy stalker, but not so amused as to want to share the bathroom with him. Again, I went in and noodged Mickey out. Mickey gave me a look of utter disdain and bopped off towards the dining room. Once Hubby was out of the bathroom, I made sure to close the door.
A short time later, Hubby decided to go to bed. Because the wound on his leg was only lightly covered with tape, I decided to put a gauze pad on it in case it bled during the night, so I got some supplies and followed Hubby into the bedroom. As I was putting the pad on, Hubby looked down at the floor and said,
"Hey, there's the orange furball."
I looked down just in time to see one busy bunny bopping by my feet, giving everything a look-over. I put down the tape and tried to noodge him out of the bedroom with my feet so I wouldn't get bunny fur on clean hands. It took a LOT of noodging, but I managed. Mickey was not at all happy to be ushered out of new and interesting territory; he gave me a look that clearly said, "Awwwwwww, Mum! Why are you being so mean and spoiling my fun?" before I gave him one last noodge into the kitchen, then went back into the bedroom, closing the door this time, and finished taking care of my husband's bandaging.
Normally, that would have been the end of it, but unfortunately, once the local anesthetic they had given my husband at the hospital wore off, he was in serious pain, and the pain meds they gave him had no effect, so he was not a happy boy. I was in and out of the bedroom trying to make him comfortable, and on occasion, blocking Mickey from getting in the bedroom at the same time. Finally, my husband and my rabbit seemed to settle down, so I could go back to my computer.
A while later, I realized that it was a little too quiet in the room. I looked at Mickey's hidey-hole box under the dining room table, where he had been sitting and sulking only a short time before. He wasn't there. I got up and looked around the dining room, then the kitchen. No Mickey.
Uh-oh...
I went into the bathroom; I hadn't heard him go into the hallway (normally, the sound of bunny nails on wood floor is a giveaway), but it was always possible.
Nope, not there...
I paused and thought for a moment. Hubby had come out of the bedroom to use the bathroom a short time before. One of us surely would have noticed Mr. Nosy...or maybe not.
I grabbed a flashlight (so I wouldn't have to turn on the light in case Hubby was sleeping) and went into the room. As luck would have it, he wasn't sleeping, so I turned off the flashlight and turned on the light. "Did you see Mickey in here? I can't find him."
"No, haven't seen anything."
I walked around to the other side of the bed. Sure enough, making himself comfortable on the foam pad I have on the floor on that side, was Mr. Mick.
He had the nerve not to even try to avoid me as I approached. Even the expression on his face was all, "What? This is my house, why do you have a problem with me being here?" He was not at all happy when I immediately scooped him up and carried him out of the bedroom and back to his cage. I told him he'd had enough activity for the evening and I wasn't about to play "Where's The Bunny?" all night. He gave me The Bunny Butt O'Snub and turned his attention to his slinky toy while I went back to my computer. So much for a peaceful evening.
EDIT: 5/10/10--Realized this morning that I had the day listed wrong, which shows how screwed up my days have been lately. Corrections have been made. --Jade
4 comments:
Awwwwwwwwe but moooom! I wanna make sure dad is ok!!!!!!!
Yeah, that's what I was thinking. I have a firm belief that buns (and all pets) are extremely attuned to bad vibes. So if someone's sick, or in pain, they feel it's their duty to stay close, keep checking up, and essentially defend the weak as they would try to do in a wild warren.
The chasing in and out and nudging etc. is a game we play all day and night. Usually we keep the bedroom door closed, so every time we open it, the (free range) buns make a beeline for the bedroom door to try to get out to play in the living room/kitchen/rest of the apartment. problem is, if they sneak out, and get shut out for awhile, they become very angry, because their food and toys and litter boxes are in the bedroom!!!
Actually we had a break out this morning before work. Biff is pretty good about being told "in", he thinks its a fun little game, but Sogna is totally unresponsive. Was already late, so I had to scoop her up and carry her in. I was punished with a powerful back-foot kick to the chest and now I have these three bright red scratches on my chest at the office. Thanks Sogna.
With Mickey, it could have been either or even both. The bedroom was unexplored territory--and nothing is more appealing to a bunny than a place he's either never been in or not allowed to be in. At the same time, he normally doesn't take much interest in my husband (except as possibly a new source of treats and/or petting) so the sudden bout of follow-the-big-guy was new behavior. I know how tuned in rabbits can be to people who aren't feeling well, so I had considered that a possibility. We'll see what happens the next time I let Mickey out for exercise.
Seems pretty normal to us ....
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