Johnny B. Goode, Augustus B. Bad

Oh, what a delight it is to have binky bunnies. Bunnies that three days ago learned to jump up onto the sofa. Bunnies that follow each other around, play together, snuggle up together, and as of yesterday morning also rip into each other with fur-tuft-ripping ferocity and blind viciousness.

Oops.

Seems to me that Augustus at the ripe old age of ten and a half weeks has started experiencing an interest in Snowdon that goes beyond the bounds of platonic friendship and into the realm of hey baby chicka-chicka boom boom. And Snowdon isn't having any of it...yet.

We've had to separate them. Half our living room is now taken up with a pair of dog pens with extra layers of chicken-wire to keep the two apart. They miss each other and it's heartbreaking to see them trying to nuzzle through the jail bars but rather that than have them draw blood (or, in another two months, suddenly decide to throw caution to the wind and end up with a handful of babies).

Went to the vet today. Although it's possible to spay and neuter at 4 months (and indeed most people do), these days there is evidence that having rabbits fixed at that age leads to bone and joint problems down the road as the body was denied certain developmental hormones. So... the vet wants to see the bunnies when they're 8 months old.


This means another five months of keeping the creatures close enough to maintain the bond but far enough apart that we can avoid the pitter patter of tiny, tiny paws around the house.