I have the worst rabbit in the history of rabbits.

Veleda and Patience snuggling

By: Lisa Horne Reg. A.H.T.

Veleda came to me a year before I decided to go to school to become a tech.  I was living in a place that allowed no cats or dogs, and I was miserable without an animal in my life, so I was looking through various rescue sites to find a furry little critter to brighten my home.  One day, while working in a jewelry store, the mail-lady told me this tale of woe:

She had bought this cute and cuddly bunny for her daughter, only to find out within a few days of bringing it home that her husband was allergic to rabbits.  This was not a stuffy-nose kind of allergy; this was a full blown anaphylactic-might-actually-die kind of allergy.  Being the soft-hearted woman that she was, she couldn’t bear to surrender the bunny to a rescue shelter, but she clearly couldn’t keep it in the house either, so instead, she decided to keep the bunny in the garage until she could find it a home.  According to her, her husband’s allergy was the only reason she couldn’t keep the poor thing, and naturally, I had to take her.

 

Since bringing the bunny into my home, I’ve suspected that there was a lot left out of that story.

She delivered an adorable grey lion-head bunny (with one lop ear, and one erect ear), who was about 2 lbs soaking wet, to my doorstep one fateful summer day.  I, of course, oohed and aahed, and made those high pitched squeally noises that many women make when confronted with cute things.  Then I stuck my hand in the cage.  The bunny went ballistic.  I jerked my bleeding hand out of the cage, and the mail-lady assured me that she never does this kind of thing, and that she was really quite cuddly; I assured myself, having had lots of experience with animals,that the bunny was scared, and in a strange place, and that it was only natural that she’d lash out. 

I dubbed her “Veleda” after a character in my favourite book, and got to work getting to know her; I believe in free range creatures, so I let her out into a fenced off area of the kitchen.  I began to suspect that she wasn’t your typical prey species when my parent’s old cat Lynx (who was an expert hunter despite lacking claws) decided that he should see what this thing was all about.  I turned to see him climbing over the fence, and ran over to stop him.  I had visions of dead bunny being spread all over my parent’s kitchen.  Next thing I knew, Lynx screeched, flew back over the fence, and ran for his life (and to nurse his bleeding face and injured pride).

Definitely not your average bunny.

Due to the fact that I don’t believe she should live in a cage for her whole life, Veleda and I have learned to live together in peace; she still tries to attack my hand when I stick it in her cage to, for example, feed her, but I believe she (usually) misses on purpose and that her attacks are half-hearted.  She has also determined that the space outside of the cage is neutral ground, but even that was a long struggle.  Over the years she has destroyed, among other things,  several books and DVD cases, a surround sound speaker system, the baseboards off the wall of my previous residence, and a couch.  And before you go and assume it’s because I neglect her, or don’t give her other things to chew on, let me assure you of this fact: I have about $50 worth of various rabbit chew products that have no nibbles out of them whatsoever.

A few years ago, I met a cat with frost-bitten ears that I absolutely fell in love with.  I took her home and renamed her Patience.  I’ve been extremely lucky in that I found a cat that was not only gentle and easy going, but was more than happy to have a rabbit be the undisputed boss.  Within 15 minutes of meeting, Veleda had established herself as the ruler of the household, and Patience was completely alright with that.  They play together well, but playtime stops and starts at Veleda’s discretion, and woe be to Patience if she decides to push it further. 

To this day, Patience is the only one Veleda has any desire to cuddle with.  I’m not going to lie, that hurts my feelings sometimes.

  

 Veleda is now about 4 years old and about 8 lbs.  She does not destroy things anymore (unless she thinks I’m not looking), and although she still has her quirks, like kicking poop out of the litter box when she’s mad, she is generally pleasant to live with. 

People often ask me why I kept her, seeing as she has done substantial physical and financial damage over the years, and my answer is simply this: I was not going to give up on her just because she was difficult.  I never really expected a personality out of a rabbit, but with Veleda, I got the mother of all personalities that, in a strange way, made connecting with her easier.  If she was a person, I would write her off as a bitch, and cut her out of my life, but seeing as she is a prey species with more sass than any other animal I’ve met, I love her more.

I have the worst rabbit in the history of rabbits.  

I wouldn’t have her any other way.