I was going through my old rabbit files today and found this account of the very first baby bunnies born at the DaM farm. It was quite the exciting day considering we had been waiting for this moment for almost 4 months. Re-reading it brought a couple of chuckles so I thought I'd post it.
NOTE: You will notice in this ramble the use of "rabbit jargon". Rabbit people, it seems, have their own little language they delight in. They blab away and you look at them, trying to follow the conversation. Then, of course, they have to explain the terms, sounding oh-so-knowledgeable, making you look like an idiot, and being able to talk even more about rabbits as if it's the only conversation worth having anyhow. So why they have to say kindle instead of birth, buck instead of male, doe - female, kits - babies (and this is just the tip of the iceberg) is a mystery that I'm happy to leave that way. If I want a mystery, I'll read Sue Grafton. The only thing that irks me about the jargon is that NOW I'M DOING IT!!!!
The DaM Farm's First Kindle, Dec 28, 2006
Yesterday morning I went down to tend to my rabbits. I check Thyme's nest box - she was due to kindle, no kits. "Well, THERE'S a surprise." I grumbled to myself. After six, yes that's right - SIX, failed pregnancies with three separate does, I was discouraged, disappointed and down right ticked off. I got a new buck just in case the first one was shooting blanks. The second buck was "proven" meaning he had viable off-spring. Well, not with my rabbits, he didn't, not yet anyhow. So I am grumpy. Obviously it ain't the males so that means I have three dud females or they don't like their set up which means I have to move them all to a new location which is going to be a major headache. I'm thinking someone better get around to inventing a 28 hour day because 24 just ain't cutting around here.
That night, Don comes up from where the rabbits are and says brightly, "I have some good news for you."
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"What?" I say (yes, I'm still grumpy).
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Don says, "The rabbit on the bottom, she's running around with hay in her mouth, I think she wants to build a nest. I think she's pregnant" (Rabbit jargon has not rubbed off on Don at all, thank goodness).
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Freyja building a nest.
"That would be Freyja. It's way too early for her to be building a nest, she's having a false pregnancy AGAIN." I said. `
My grumpiness had gone to the next level, I believe it's called murderous rage directed squarely at a long-eared, puffy tailed prankster. Freyja, on her last 'pregnancy', built a nest lined it with fur and stood there laughing at me, Ha, ha, on you, you dumb human. Nary a kit produced.
After supper, I went down to tend the bunnies trying to convince myself that strangling Freyja wouldn't really make me feel any better – well, probably not for long, anyhow. I get down there and throw Freyja a dirty look. She looks back with a bright questioning look, "And how exactly did you get to the top of the evolutionary heap?" her look seems to say, "When a mere rabbit can fool ya?"
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I walk past her muttering. "Kinda like the name 'Stew' for you, now. Suits you better."
I went to Thyme's cage and nearly fell over. There's Thyme with a kit between her front paws. The kit was squealing high murder! OH MY GOD, SHE'S EATING THE KIT!!!!! Or so it seemed. I open the cage, shoo her away and call for Don. He comes down and I say, "I need a flannel cloth. Right there, on the table. The table in front of you, it's the only one in the room. No, not the old rag with blue paint on it, the flannel cloth. It's right there, right there!" This is awkward to say the least. Have you ever tried pointing with your nose? I've got one hand over the kit and the other hand keeping Thyme away, Don is behind me since I'm facing the cage and the only appendage I have to point with is my nose while trying to turn my head 180 degrees. Linda Blair of The Exorcist would have been proud of me. Finally he gets the cloth and I pick up the kit and take it out. It's moving and it has no marks on it. Oh, so may-be she was just cleaning it, not eating it. Duh on me. Mental Note: I've got to stop bragging about being on top of the evolutionary heap - I'm pretty sure I'm there by default.
Don looks at the little squirming thing. "Why's it black? It's mother is creamy and it's father is white." Ah, a perfect time to show off my rabbit knowledge! I might even throw in a rabbit jargon word or two.
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I say with every confidence, "I dunno." Well, may-be next time with the rabbit jargon and knowledge.
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Don goes to get T, at the time 14 years old, as I hold the kit. T comes down and happily holds the kit so I can go back to Thyme who is obviously having another one. Thyme gives birth to a second kit. I wait and let her clean it then I pick it up and put it in the flannel with its sibling. T glows, rocking gently, crooning to the little squiggly blobs. Mental note: Hhmmm, might be an idea to keep the teenage daughter away from destined Sunday dinners while they are still alive.
"Shouldn't she be having them in the nest box?" Don asks.
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"Yeah, but she's a new mom and young does often have kits on the wire. She didn't pull fur either so I'm going to go get some dryer lint to line her nest." DaM, I actually sound like I know what I'm talking about! I line the nest with lint and Thyme wanders over to her food dish and starts eating her pellets. I check the kits. They're wiggly and big and black. I decide to put them in the nest box hoping Thyme will get the idea.
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Thyme's First Two Kits Ever
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Four hours later, no more kits. We all go upstairs and leave Thyme happily munching hay. Just before going to bed, I check one last time. There is fur all over Thyme's cage! It looks like it snowed bunny in there. I take a little of her fur and place it gently in the nest box hoping to clue her in that is where it belongs. She hops over and re-arranges it. Her actions seem to say, "Oh, I see what I'm supposed to do now." I go to bed. Two kits. Well, it's a start. Odd though, she pulled fur after the birth. Well, the whole thing was odd, really.
The next morning I get up and check on how things are going. Almost all the fur has been moved into the nest box. I take a peek to see how the two little ones are doing and count EIGHT. Little Thyme had six more hours later. Most unusual. And she had them in the nest box! I looked at her and said. "You figured it out, did you?" She looked at me. I said, "Well, it's about time!"
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She squinched her face at me as if to say. “No-o-o-, actually it's really all about THYME! Wanna see me do the can-can?"
Originally written April 19, 2007 by Marnie
Update: It turns out that my first buck was indeed infertile, instead of getting a one year old buck I paid for, the breeder mistakenly gave me a 4 year old sterile buck.. Thyme raised those eight kits beautifully and I kept one of her offspring. ‘Lavender’. Thyme never had another litter no matter how many times I bred her so I retired her. On August 9, 2007, she passed in her sleep, I have a feeling she may have been much older than I was told, the breeder may have made another mistake. I have Thyme's granddaughter, Chamomile, in my colony now. Freyja was indeed pregnant and had 7 lovely kits 10 days after Thyme. Freyja went on to have one more litter, 10 kits and then she decided her kindling days were over. She died in her sleep June 18, 2008. My very viral and charming buck, Oreo, came down with Wry Neck shortly after I got him. Three trips to the vet and numerous types of meds did not help him so I put him down Jan 9, 2007. He did sire 3 litters and I have his grandson (Gris-Gris) and two of his great-granddaughters (Chamomile and Flare) in my colonies now.
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