Kordax is 11 years old.
He's old enough that the very nice veterinarian sharply sucked air through her grimacing teeth when I told her.
He's old enough that anything could happen at any time...a stroke, kidney failure, or one of his hopplepods could fall off.
He's like 143 in people years.
But he still brings the sass. Sass of such a volume and intensity that would seem impossible coming from his 900 gram frame...sass that recently includes the repeated violation of a brightly-colored, pyramidal dog toy that Alexis has taken to calling his partner.
That is, until he stopped eating. It was so weird, it happened all of a sudden and he didn't eat for days. His food bowl remained untouched and, obviously, he stopped pooping. This is BAD for a rabbit. Rabbits poop out a constant supply of pellets (which look suspiciously similar to the pellets going in), and he's always been especially good at pooping. I mean, he'd rest for a few seconds in one place on the carpet and there'd be, like, six shiny balls. Whatever. Pet ownership is all about handling poop (so, evidently is parenting)...if you have a pet, you know that already.
So the first day I didn't notice. The second day I did notice. The third day I got worried and the fourth, I freaked. I packed him into my ammunition hand bag and took him into the recommended small animal hospital (where the vet made the aforementioned grimace).
We'd read about gut stasis in rabbits.
Evidently, they can have an event that triggers them to stop eating, then they get bloated and constipated, then they really don't feel like eating. It is ridiculous...how does a species survive through such idiocy. It's like those fainting goats (which, according to a recent Times article, are tasty).
We brought him home with a baggie of pharmeceuticals, and now, at least three times a day, I give him the following:
Baytril (antibiotic)
Metacam (anti-inflammatory)
Reglan (for gastric motility)
and Critical Care - "a premium recovery food for herbivores"
I wrap him up in a little bunny burrito and start from one end of my fan of syringes. He's a very good sport.
The first night, he was peppier. And today he started pooping again.
I am beyond relieved, and I'll say here what I said to him: if I have to feed him by hand three times a day for the rest of his life, I'm all on board. He's my one and only bad little bun.
