Now, lately, I had been noticing that Binkles’ poopies were not of satisfactory size -they were not ALARMINGLY small, but certainly small enough to get my attention. I figured that it was probably due to the all-present molt. I had also noticed that, while she would snarf down her pellets like there was no tomorrow, she wasn’t eating as much hay or drinking as much water as she should. So earlier today (or, yesterday now..) I had gone out to the store to get her some baby Romaine. Binkles had never had romaine before, but as soon as I gave it to her, she gobbled it up. An obvious success.

Later that evenining, she was visibly happier. She was very active and congenial, showing high interest in small things like the fact that the dog was sitting right outside my bedroom and her tags were making a little jingle sound. Both my mom and I were very pleased that she was feeling better. Her toenails had been trimmed the night before, and now she was having fresh greens.

All was well. Better than well, actually. Or so it seemed for a while.

It was about 3:30 AM (about the time I usually go to bed), and I turned around in my chair to hit the sack. I called out for Binkles to say goodnight to her and shook her alfalfa slims package for a midnight snack as I always do. But she didn’t come. I looked over at her cage, thinking that maybe she was in the middle of going to the bathroom -as is often the case in such a situation. And indeed she was in her cage, but not in her litterbox -she was just kind of sitting in the corner.

This IMMEDIATELY struck me as off, because whenever she is not feeling well, she does NOT seek refuge in her cage. Her cage is a place to pee and eat and that’s it. Her hiding place is under my bed. Casually, I sat down on my bed and just observed her for a moment. She was just -sitting- there. I stuck my hand out to see if I could get SOME sort of a reaction out of her; maybe she had just fallen asleep in an odd place because I had her confined to her cage for the past couple of nights due to a nail accident. She did respond. But she just looked over at my hand breifly and then went back to staring into space.

Startled, I went over to grab her bucket of pellets and shook it. “Oh Little Binkles the Bunny, look what I have here! Oh! Are these some…freeeessh bunny yummies…?” Normally, at this point, I would have a bunny doing loops around my room and beginning to stagger around on her hind feet in anticipation.

But no. She didn’t even care. At all. I grabbed her food bowl out from her cage and made sure that the sound of the pellets being scooped into it were very audible, and set it right next to her. She looked over at it, and then went back to not caring.

That’s when I realized how fast she was breathing. I mean she was breathing REALLY FAST. It scared theCRAP out of me. I scooped her up and laid back in my bed to see if she would move away like she normally does when I put her on my chest. After an unusual pause, she did, and hopped off under my bed.

I grabbed a flashlight to see what she was looking like under there. She looked up at the bright light breifly, and hopped off again. Normally, she would have just hopped over to the other side of underneath the bed. But not this time. She hopped to a place where she never has been known to seek respite before and just sat there.

I followed her and laid down there for a few minutes, thinking that maybe she just had a ‘bunnitude’, and that perhaps my laying there with her would snap her out of it as it often does. About ten minutes passed before I curiously reached out to give her a nose rub and feel her ears.

My heart lept into my throat as I observed that they were not her normally moderately-warm bunny ears. They were…almost cold to the touch!?

I paniched and just cupped her little body in my hands, folding her ears back to conserve her heat. Was she going into shock? What would have caused it? The nail bleeding the other day..?

I scooped her up again and raced to get a towel and a heating pad.

Now at this point, the only room in the house that I could attend to her without waking anyone up was my mother’s room (who was sleeping downstairs). The room that Little-Bit is in. Now, I had fully planned to….fully plan their first meeting. These two had never even SEEN each other before. But this was urgent. Little-Bit was in her cage on the floor, Binkles was going through a trauma -maybe she wouldn’t even notice.

So I sat down there with her wrapped in a towel on top of the heating pad set to ‘medium’ for about five minutes. By now my mom had awoken to the fact that the cat was  yowling -maybe he knew something was oging on- and she had joined me in her room. We tried to get her to take some simethicone, which she refused, and tried to get her to have a few nibbles at one of here favourite foods -banana! But she also refused..

After about ten minutes, Binkles seemed to be doing a little better now. Her ears weren’t cold anymore, and she seemed to be a little more alert. She’d had even half-tried to lope away a few times, if not just out of bunny habit.

One such time, I let her lope. I figured that while she was there and feeling a little better (and warmed), I might as well monitor her to see if she needed immediate attention again from the heating blanket or if she could hold her own heat. The bed was small anyway -a Full. And she knows not to hop off unfamilliar beds. So it really was the perfect place for me just to observe her.

Then, it happened.

She dug a little bit in the bed cloths, when all of a sudden – ‘gggrgrgrgrrrrrllLLLOOORRPPGGGLLllll!!’- Holy crap. That was HER stomach! You could have heard it from across the room!

Almost instananeously, all the life seemed to have snapped back into her at the same time. Suddenly, she was VERY attentive and VERY alert. She began hopping around the bed and exploring like she normally would. She even took a few good chunks out of the banana that she had just so adamantly refused five minutes ago. We knew she was back.

The culprit, my guess would either be gas, or a plain old upset stomach -from the romaine I had just introduced to her 12 hours before. And due to what? Of course…my own stupidity. I know FULL well to ease a bunny into a new food. And there should have been no exception with the romaine. But no. I suppose that I just figured that romaine was close enough to spinach -and Binkles has eaten PLENTY of spinach before. (>< I've since learned that spinach can give gas and have cut back on it a lot -though we never had problems with it.) Instead of easing her into it, I gave her a whole breakfast ceral bowl full -which she happilly consumed.

Stupid…stupid…STUPID. >< But I'm glad I was awake to catch it..

About one or two more of those audible noises came from her stomach, and then all was silent. She was very active, attentive, and ‘-…..ohmigosh…there’s ANOTHER BUNNY IN HERE!!!’

=P I took lots of pictures. It was very cute, and, I think a not-so-bad first ‘seeing’. (I wouldn’t quite call it a ‘meeting’. But man, their eyes were LOCKED.)

She’s now her normal bunny self. Immediately when I brought her back into my room, she went over to snarf down some pellets and drink some water. After she was through with this and off doing something else, I once again shook her alfalfa slims package, and don’t you know, that bunny was ALL over it. She is now all laid out in her usual lay-out spot, and all is well.

And all of this, within an hour and a half.

I don’t know whether or not my actions were what did the trick -perhaps the digestion would have made its way out even if I hadn’t interveinved. But I’ll never know that, and I never CARE to know that. Because what if it wouldn’t have? I’m MUCH happier safe than sorry.

Well. It’s now 6:12 AM, and I’m off to get some sleep. Whew! What a long day/ night/ morning!