First off, let me clarify that I am not attempting to strangle Paddington in the picture above. I was merely trying to get him to stand up and show off that round little belly. Why am I so proud of his bunny gut? It’s because it was so hard-won!
A few months ago, Paddington was looking really skinny, which alarmed me because his appetite is legendary. Since he moved in with us in September, Paddington has tried to help himself to Papa John’s pizza, beer, Diet Coke, coffee, lemons, tortilla chips – you name it, he wanted to try it and he wasn’t going to wait for someone to offer it to him. One Saturday, he even climbed up the front of my boyfriend’s shirt, stuck his head in Nate’s mouth and plucked a piece of Gardetto Mix out to enjoy. He’s basically a long-eared garbage disposal.
Despite his voracious appetite, Paddington was becoming skin-and-bones skinny. I took him to the vet, who was baffled. (I also took Alex to the vet with Paddington in case Pad had something contagious that Alex would need to be treated for also. The vet weighed Alex, raised his eyebrows and said “Are we sure the problem isn’t that she’s eating all the food?” I said, “Leave her alone, doc. She’s in love. We girls sometimes gain weight when we’re really happy.”)
Preliminary blood tests revealed that Pad had an excess of calcium in his blood, which is commonly an indicator of cancer. The doctor told me not to panic until we could get more tests done – easy for him to say. As soon as the C word is brought up, it’s pretty tough to stay calm. Luckily I only had to endure one night of freaking out. The next day’s tests ruled out cancer, but revealed that Paddington was severely anemic. The vet gave him a prescription for an iron supplement that he was to take twice a day for a month.
Have you ever had to give your rabbit medicine? I remember an email forward that went around a few years ago titled “How to Give a Cat a Pill.” I cracked up at the descriptions of pulling a cat down from curtains and bandaging wounds inflicted by an animal who had no interest in being medicated. Little did I know that giving bunnies medicine has its own unique set of challenges. I wound up making Paddington into a “bunny burrito” by wrapping him tightly in a towel with only his head sticking out. Don’t for a second think that being immobile was going to make him any more willing to open his mouth, though. I was finally able to get the medicine in the side of his mouth…and he spat it out. The next time, he let it ooze out of his mouth. This medicine, I should add, smelled and looked exactly like soy sauce. Paddington and I both wound up covered in it and looked like we had come from a particularly messy Chinese dinner.
Along with the medicine, the vet recommended a “Let Paddington Eat Whatever He Wants, Whenever He Wants to Eat It” diet. Paddington was thrilled by this, of course, but it went over like a lead balloon with the other two resident bunnies. I wound up feeding Paddington in a separate room because if Alex saw him eating food that she wasn’t offered, she would have the bunny version of a hissy fit, flinging her toys and stomping her foot. “I’m sorry, Alex,” I told her. “The doctor specifically said to not let you get any fatter. He doesn’t care that you’re in love.” This was met by Alex crawling under a blanket…and stomping her foot again.
After a month of bunny burritos, an angry Alex and spending all of the money that I was planning to use on a new couch on Paddington’s lab tests, I was ecstatic to discover that Pad was filling out and even had a round little belly to show for it. I have to admit that I’m a little jealous of him – I don’t want to take the icky medicine, but I’d love to try a “Let Laura Eat Whatever She Wants” diet!
