I think the heat pad is a hit! The kits are curled up on the side of the nest with the heat pad. When the side of the box is tapped, the kits immediately come to life – bouncing and popping like jumping beans. The kits look fed with plump bellies (all of them, but some more than others), and their fur fuzz is more apparent.
“Mommy, why did Coffee have so many kits, and why don’t humans have litters like that?”
Because, rabbits are prey animals. They are at the bottom of the food chain, right above grass and leaves. And when a species has a low survivability rate, more offspring are common.
“So, is that why there are millions of sperm and only one egg? Because the sperm are weak and die a lot?”
Smart girl. Exactly right. She’s getting this better than even I expected.
Day 3 (1/13/12):
Woke to discover the weak one has died (he was a black/grey, very tiny, and slightly deformed. We coulda guessed that he was gonna die, actually, just based on his appearance). He was (once again) away from the rest of the pack. For just a few seconds, I felt really sad. 'Poor thing!'
(Learning opportunity for the kids about sickness, death, and survival of the fittest.)
The other kits looked as if they hadn’t been fed. Well, except for one. The fat one had somehow jumped out of the nest, and found Mama. He was plump and curled up in the far corner of the condo (opposite of the nest). I guess he saw the dead one and was like "you guys can wait here, but I'm going out and finding me some milk!"
I thought Mama was feeding them overnight (or at dawn) when everything was quiet and calm. Why hadn’t see fed them? I checked her food dish, and it was empty. Maybe she only feeds them when she feels like there’s a steady food supply. The house was a bit cool overnight. Maybe the kits weren’t motivated to nurse?
So we do a thorough cleaning of the cage with a dilute bleach mixture on the bottom. Then a vinegar mixture on everything else. We switched out the nest, from a card-board box, to a plastic container. New towels (there isn’t much of Mama's fur left to use). Refilled the food, water, and hay. I placed a heat pad halfway under the nest, so the kits can regulate their body temperature by moving either towards, or away from, the heat.
Before placing the rabbits back in the cage, we held Mama over the kits in their new nest. The kits were able to nurse for a few minutes. After about 5 minutes, none of the kits continued to attempt to nurse. However, their bellies weren’t particularly “plump.”
Did they get anything? Maybe Mama isn’t producing milk? Maybe her teat is infected? Maybe the fur is too dense?
We ultimately decide to just put all of them back into the condo and rest. Decrease the stress and change the energy level from frantic and worried, to calm and confident. Confident that Mama Rabbit is a good Mama, and knows what to do.
***
Later in the evening the kits appear plump. Hmm…maybe their feeding time is mid day? There were 2 that didn’t appear as plump…and they were buried under a towel. Perhaps they missed the mid-day feeding because they were “lost.” It cannot be good for the kits to trap each other under small towels. Suffocation is not the concern, because the towels are small, and not air tight. But, if the kits cannot ‘find’ their way to the teat in time to eat for being ‘buried’ under a towel…that’s not a good situation either. So, I take the small towels out (and leave just the 2 towels lining the nest (with the heat pad).
***
“Mommy? Can I have the big pink one with black splotches?”
After explaining to the kids that kits cannot be chosen just yet as we do not know which (if any) are going to live. Additionally, we explained that it is important to choose your friends, partners, spouses pet based on personality (this is a pet blog, right?) with a possible consideration for gender, so housing can be assessed. Choosing a (pet) companion based solely on size or color is not good practice. Invariably you’ll end up with a bunny (or partner) with a disagreeable personality, who may bite and hurt you, or perhaps won’t be cuddly or playful. When you base your decision for companionship on superficiality you will not find a compatible soul match.
So wait. Wait until you get to KNOW the personality of the person bunnies, THEN choose based on something more substantial.
I think they understand that this applies to people too.
I woke to a cool house. Oh, no! The heater must have clicked off overnight! I hope the kits aren’t frozen stiff! I rush to check on them.
I can only count 5 kits. Where are the other 3? Hubby is paranoid that Coffee will eat them…but I’m not concerned about that because that’s atypical. I’m more concerned about whether or not they’re getting enough nutrition, and my focus is on making the house sufficiently warm.
After the kids are off to school, we pull the nest out of the condo. Three kits are under the towel, and begin wiggling immediately upon exposure to the light (and cold). There are 2 that seem to have missed last night’s feeding. The others had plump bellies and were immediately active.
Mama is a bit skittish, and when I approach the condo, she jumps into the nest. I’m always afraid she’ll squish the kits, but as long as there is sufficient cushion (towels) under the kits, I guess that’s not a common occurrence. The good things is, when she’s ‘hiding out’ in there, the kits jump to nurse.
Later that evening, I see the weak kit alone in the box. Maybe he left the pack because he knew he was sick and near death, and dead kits would begin to smell thereby revealing the nest location to predators. Or, maybe the pack LEFT him (for whatever reason).
Either way, he can’t live alone. So I pick him up, and place him back in the pack. He seems weak, but his only chance is with the pack. Maybe he’ll be present for the feeding tonight.
Recap: Tiny, wiggly, kits sprawled out on the wire bottom cage in the cool garage, less one small runt kit that’s lying in the poop box. All are breathing. 3 are very active. 1 is very weak. 4 are somewhere in between.
We transfer the entire lot into the large cage and move them all into the house.
I then proceed to worry about the house temperature, the noise level, and Coffee’s ability (and willingness) to nurse the kits.
All is well, and we can relax. I sit a respectable distance from the cage on the computer…and I notice one particularly ambitious kit has left the towel stack that we’re calling a nest, and is alone on the cage floor. Then I notice the weak one is off the towel. This can’t be right:
“Hey babe, do you think we should put a box or something in the condo because the kits seem to be scattering about?" I ask.
“No. I think you should leave them alone.”
Leaving them alone is not an option.
A quick internet search reveals that rabbits do not chase or “round up” their stray kits. If one gets out of the nest, he’s on his own. I also realized that the kits indeed require a “box” of some sort, to keep them confined for warmth, and nutrition. At mealtime, the Mama doesn’t look around and make sure everyone gets fed. If you’re not there, you miss the meal. If you miss too many meals, you die. So (by deduction) if the kit is not in the nest, they die.
“Hon? I think we need to make a box nest for the kits” I share with Hubby.
So we get a flat box, put towels at the bottom, a few bunched on top. Then Mama’s fur as lining.
That looks better!
Fast forward 31 days –
Its late morning. We go into the garage to let the dog out (see, the dog sleeps in her crate, in the garage, especially in the winter). Out the corner of his eye, hubby sees a fur ball in Coffee’s cage.
He moves closer to investigate the scene further.
“Oh MY! HEY, Coffee had babies! AHHH! Coffee had babies!”
How is that possible? And how is it possible that we didn’t know? We had given them additional doses of ivermectin, taken them outside, and moved them to clean their cages multiple times over the last month. How did we not notice her pregnancy. Poor thing had no prenatal care or special treatment during her pregnancy!
I cautiously approach Coffee’s cage, sorta sad already that there are going to be multiple dead kits. And low and behold…they are all alive. “When do you think she kindled them?”
“Not too long ago…see here’s some blood…and they weren’t there here last night when I fed them and brought the dog in” was hubby’s response.
Now we enter into a whirlwind of activity! So much to do! And I feel incredibility guilty that she was 'neglected' until now. I had no idea that she was pregnant…much less prepared for a new litter!
Coffee is standing tall, over her litter, with her good eye looking out towards us.
The smallest kit is in her poop box (I hypothesize that she misinterpreted ‘labor and delivery’ for having a bowel movement.) It was still alive. The garage was quite chilly, however! The rest were just outside of the poop box, wiggling around.
We sprung into action. Lives depended on it!
“Lets clean all the cages. Let’s move Coffee and her kits into the large cage ("the Condo")…and Pepper into the smaller one. Let’s spray everything in the large cage with vinegar and isopropyl alcohol to erase the scent of the prior inhabitant, but maintain all of Coffee’s toys and dishes so the only smell is her own (maybe she’ll feel more comfortable).”
We moved the males into the same cage. And boy did they fight!
We cleaned their cages well (largely because of the earmite thing). We moved Coffee into the (infamous) laundry basket. And quickly consulted Dr. Google on how to make a rabbit nest. We got some old towels, collected as much as Coffees fur as possible, and transferred the kits from the ‘messy, small’ cage, into the ‘larger (now crystal clean) 2 story condo’ previously inhabited by Pepper. Finally, we allowed Coffee to reconnect with her kits, and brought the entire ‘bunny condo’ into the (warm) house.
Fresh food, water, veggies, hay, a nest, and we cover half the cage with large towels to induce warmth, calm, darkness, and a sense of safety.
Months pass. School’s back in session. The holiday season comes and goes. There is less interaction between the kids and the rabbits (and the rabbits with each other). And the assumption is made that: either Coffee could not bear bunnies; hated the males so much that conception could never happen; or the males were unable to impregnate the female. And this assumption proved to be true for months, until….
…one day in the middle of winter.
We discovered that Pepper had ear mites (!). Yuck.. His ear was all crusty with *oatmeal chunks* of nastiness coating his inner ear. The only clue (prior to the full-blown case) was a small white patch, a rash if you will, to the upper, outer ear.
“Mommy, come look at Pepper’s ear! It’s full of dirt or something…and it’s all crunchy and it’s sorta flopping over!”
What now?!
I consult Dr. Google for immediate consultation. Ear mites! Yep, looks just like the Google image. After online verification with a couple of my vet friends, we tromp down to the feed store for some ivermectin. I dilute it 1:10 (which is a lesson for a different day), and apply 2-3 drops into each of Pepper’s ears. All the while (this is a family affair…a lesson in…um...’treating a medical illness’) having the little 6 year old guy administer the medication as recommended.
In the meantime, Coffee and Cinnamon have to come out of their cages so hubby can (essentially) sterilize their homes. “Here you guys, watch Coffee and Cinnamon in this laundry basket while we clean the cages (and tend to Pepper). Don’t let them jump out of the basket!”
“Mommy, I think Cinnamon figured out that his penis doesn’t go in Coffee’s face. Mommy?! I’m uncomfortable watching the rabbits have sex….I think we should give them privacy. Don’t you think privacy is good for sex?!”
(Too preoccupied with cleaning, and ear-drops, to register exactly what the 8 year old is saying)
“Uh, huh…sure. Hey, just make sure they don’t jump out of that basket! We’ll never catch them if they get loose in the garage. So no privacy! Watch those rabbits and make sure they don’t get loose, ya hear?”
So watch the rabbits (having sex), they did!
