This is Daisy, a blue-eyed lionhead lop.  In 2000, I spotted her in a local pet store and thought she was beautiful, but having recently lost Missy I wasn't really ready to take on another rabbit.  However, a couple of weeks went by and the Pet Manager asked if I would take her as the store manager had told her to have her put to sleep.  Daisy had developed a 'scanning' problem and wouldn't move from the corner of the communal pen (rabbits with blue or red eyes tend to have very poor eyesight and often 'scan' their head back and forth to focus on objects, particularly if they're frightened or anxious).  She was therefore pronounced 'unfit for selling'.  I was distraught!  This rabbit didn't deserve to be put to sleep.  I duly arrived with my pet carrier and shoplifted her when nobody was looking (not to be recommended I might add!).  Daisy came to live with us and her story unfolds. 

When I got Daisy home, I gave her a quick checkup and decided to take her to the vet.  The vet gave her a thorough examination and told me that it seemed she had some sort of neurological problem which was probably why she was scanning.  He confirmed that she was a girl and seemed to be clear of any other problems.

Over the next few days, Daisy developed sneezing fits, not just the occasional atchoo but repeatedly sneezing, again and again, sometimes for up to 15 to 20 times in a row, ears flapping and her little legs lifting off the floor, such was the force!  This concerned me so I took her to the vet again, and again nothing untoward could be found.  She was given an antibiotic injection and we returned home.

The sneezing didn't really lessen but I found that if she started off, I could sometimes stop the sneezing by rubbing her nose and forehead.  A couple of days later, I was giving her a routine check and I noticed she'd developed a lump on her abdomen and thought "Uh-oh, a hernia.  Must have been the violent sneezing that did it".  So off to the vet again and to the surprise of both myself and the vet, it wasn't a hernia, it was a testicle!  Oops, Daisy was a boy!  No wonder he was frightened to move out of the corner of his pen in the pet store, he probably felt intimidated being the only boy and surrounded by female buns! 

Later on, we also found out he was profoundly deaf as well.  Poor wee man, gender complex, nearly blind, deaf as a post and to top it all, three of his incisor teeth and some of his cheek teeth just fell out!

We got him booked in for a castration a couple of weeks later from which he recovered quickly.  Life settled down to a normal routine but, try as we did, we couldn't get him to bond with our other rabbit Smokey, so they were kept in separate cages (both indoors).  Smokey had the utility room as his own as well as the run of the rest of the house when we were at home, and when Smokey was safely ensconced in his own room, Daisy shared the kitchen and the rest of the house with us all. They learned to tolerate each other through the bars, with Smokey only occasionally showing his territorial instincts by weeing infront of Daisy's cage.  Daisy was never allowed in Smokey's room as Smokey's cage was left open at all times and Daisy had a tendency to nip in and pee in Smokey's bed if the room wasn't closed off!

We got ourselves a holiday cottage near enough to take the rabbits with us, but far enough away to get a break from the relentless call of the seagulls during breeding season!  Sure enough, when we took the buns away for the weekend, they got on great together and would sit for hours just grooming each other and cuddling up (neutral territory works!)

Up until September 2003, Daisy was fine.  Then one day I found him clattering around under the kitchen table, rolling over and over again.  He seemed to be having problems keeping his balance.  It was frightening for me to watch so it must have been terrifying for him.  We called the vet who came to the house as soon as he could.  In the mean time, I held him so he felt secure and his wee world didn't spin so much.  The vet thought that Daisy had probably had a stroke and the next 48 hours would tell if he would recover.

Over the next two days we held him, day and night, each of us taking turns at sitting through the night with him in our arms.  We couldn't see any improvement and when the vet came back to the house, we expected the worst.  However, the vet disagreed, he saw a slight improvement and told us that he might make it if we were willing to give him a chance.

So that's just what we did.  Ok, it meant late nights and early rises but I suppose it was just like having a baby to look after.  Jim slept on the couch with Daisy in his hospital hutch on the floor by his side.  From then on, Daisy needed fed by hand, bum-washed, leg massages and exercises to try and get his legs working again.  Wherever we went, he came too.  He took great interest in everything around him. We took him to the office where he had his own indoor hutch, we took him to the shops when we went shopping (he was fascinated by the overhead lights in the supermarket), and we took him for walks in the park with us and the dog (Daisy would hold up his wee nose and sniff all the scents wafting in the air).  Many people used to stop and talk to us (probably thought we were mad!), and they all fell in love with Daisy.

When one of us sat with Daisy on our knee, Smokey wanted up too, so the pair of them would settle down to a cosy but cramped grooming session!  Finally they had bonded properly.  It was like Smokey realised that Daisy wasn't a threat any more and they became best of buddies.  They would just chill out together.  All seemed as good as it could be, then suddenly another heartbreak, Smokey died.  Daisy was left without a bunny pal, and I was completely and utterly heartbroken, but I didn't have much time to grieve.  Daisy still needed me too.

I created a 'bunny bag' to act as a walking aid for Daisy:

This worked a treat, Daisy could work up quite a speed once he got going and it was wonderful exercise for trimming my bum (those aren't my legs in the pic by the way, they're Jim's and are for demonstration purposes only!)

His cage was lined with towels (which were replaced two to three times a day) so he didn't get bed-sores and he didn't hurt himself when he moved around, and so he could prop himself up for a drink.

The only time he would stand completely unsupported for any length of time was when he was eating.

In the evenings, Daisy alternated between lying on his vet-bed in front of the fire and sitting on Jim's knee watching the telly.  The 'lying down area' had a bed-mat (to protect the carpet from his pee), with a large piece of vet-bed placed over it, and a big soft fluffy towel on top of that.  He would often head off for a wee wander under the couch, or across the room to peek out the door to see if he could catch sight of me in the kitchen.  Sometimes, if he was bored, he would pull himself right out into the hallway and lie staring at me til I gave him a treat or picked him up for a cuddle (which was usually a pretty frantic affair as all he wanted to do was smother my face with kisses!)

We continued to live like this until March, then Daisy took a turn for the worse and deteriorated very rapidly.  Only thing was though, he wouldn't give up.  It was a Friday, I took the day off work and carried him outside to the garden so we could both sit in the sunshine, I knew he didn't have long and wanted to take him outside for the last time and spend all the time we had left, together.  It was a beautiful day and the garden was full of scent from the flowers.  Daisy sniffed the air and his fluffy 'mane' blew about in the light breeze.  I teased him about having a 'bad hair day'.  Jim and I took it in turns again to sit with him through the night, and by the next day, we had to make the decision to let him go.  The vet came to the house and Daisy was put to sleep cradled on Jim's lap.  It broke our hearts but we knew it was time.

Daisy and Jim developed a very special bond, he was 'Jim's wee buddy'.  Daisy would smother him with his bunny kisses, and there's nothing on earth to compare with getting frantic bunny kisses on your neck!

His death was a 'numbing' experience (more so because he depended entirely upon us, and our lives centred on him) but the hardest part was telling all the people who had met Daisy that he'd passed away.

We'd like to say special thanks to everyone who supported us throughout Daisy's problems and, in particular, to Kim Clevenger from Kansas who gave me invaluable support and advice which she (and her husband Terry) had developed through her devotion and perseverance in caring for Tiffy, see http://home.kc.rr.com/jhabernal/mohrskc/hrswebpg19.html, and also to Patricia for her patience, support and veterinary care in the latter part of Daisy's life.

"You left such a huge gap in our lives.  God bless wee man, run free on your new spirit legs, listen to all the beautiful noises, see all the wondrous sights, and chew on the tastiest tough titbits!  We will always remember you. 

Till we meet again Daisy....., take our love and kisses to all the spirit buns"