Beatrice Bunny’s Blog

Hi folks, Beatrice Bunny here! I’ve hijacked “Karl’s Corner”, a.k.a The Blog Spot, because quite frankly this recuperation malarkey is getting a bit dull. I mean, I’m used to life in the fast lane with legs hopping, ears flopping, and tail bopping bunny-style, not this restricted exercise caper, y’know?

Some of you are probably wondering what I’m rabbiting on about. Oooh, rabbiting on, see what I did there? My very own, bona fide bun-pun on an actual, real-life blog; juicy dandelions, I’m good! Karl, move over dude, there’s a new blogger in town!

So, starting at the beginning – which is the best way, my human mum Louise tells me – my tale/tail (another bun-pun, boom!) began when Karl blogged about my surgery in his last Karls Corner. Actually, no, thinking about it, my tale began when mum Louise entered my life. I was brought home with Louise the day after Boxing Day, and I wasn’t entirely sure about the sanity of my newly acquired humans to be perfectly honest with you.

There was stuff everywhere, weird stuff. I mean, the tree I sort of recognised, but it had been strewn with baubles and lights and shiny stuff that looked like humungous Caterpillars; Tinsel it’s called, apparently. You can keep that stuff, it’s not normal! And clutter, my days was there clutter; boxes and packets and bags all over the big room floor! You’d never catch a rabbit living in that sort of disarray; we have standards you know, us bunnies – we’re very clean and very ordered. Then I saw them, the two lumbering hounds. Yup, now the mess made sense! Dogs just dart about with no particular purpose, or none that I can see anyway.

My Louise (and she was now “my” Louise) is a bit of a softie and decided that for the time being I was going to be an indoor bunny due to the cold weather. Landed on my thumpers there hadn’t I? To be fair, the dogs seemed nice enough; obviously they were curious and wanted to get to know me better – who wouldn’t? – and so after a bit of time, Louise let us mingle.

All was going well; me and the pooches were playing a fab game of hide-and-seek combined with chase me-tig, when I felt a huge amount of pain in my back leg. I tried to put my big girl, brave bunny pants on, but the pain was too much to bear, so I squealed out loud. Well that did it, all manner of mayhem ensued! If you’d got the popcorn, you’d have been well entertained let me tell you! The dogs got bundled out of the room, I was picked up, tears were flowing, there was shouting and rushing around, and then I was put in a carry-box and put in the motorised metal thing (the car) and taken to “The Vet”. I’d not got a clue what “The Vet” was, but I was soon going to find out.

A lovely (quite handsome for a furless human) man called Karl is “The Vet”, and as he looked at me he said not to worry and that he would fix me. Easy for you to say fella, you’re not the one with the as yet unknown problem! Karl and some ladies were having conversations about the “plan of action”; apparently we bunnies are difficult for “Anna Sthetic”. Difficult? How rude to call us that!

       

I don’t think I like this “Anna Sthetic” person much; fancy calling me difficult when she hasn’t even met me. I think I might just give her a quick nip to show her who’s boss! Ooops, silly me, it would appear that “Anna Sthetic” isn’t a person; it’s something that magically makes you go to sleep in seconds. Karl says that rabbits are very sensitive to it, making us complex difficult (not naughty difficult!). I’ll forgive you then “Anna”!

For the operation, my lustrous fur had to be shaved off, which I didn’t like. I’m rather proud of my velvety pelt and my beauty in general, so the idea of looking like a patchwork doll didn’t really

appeal. I was a bit smug to hear that it had taken 4 sets of clippers to get through my dense fur. Ha, good! I had a nice snooze courtesy of the Anaesthetic/ Anna Sthetic and woke up feeling snug-as-a-bug-in-a-rug, thanks to the warm pad and blanket underneath me. The room I woke up in was lovely and quiet too, bliss to a bunny; I think I could get used to this luxury – just without the drama of breaking a leg!

I was such a star patient that Karl let Louise take me home the same day as I’d had surgery, and that’s when the pampering REALLY began. Cuddles were constantly being showered upon me, and I was told what a brave bunny I’d been. Ah, yes, the adoration I could deal with! Not so great was the stuff I needed to keep me pain-free; proper yucky stuff it was, and mum had to syringe it slowly into my mouth so I didn’t swallow it. This part was a faff to be honest – a proper full on faff – and I did get a bit grumpy and nip mum a couple of times. Sorry Mum, I love you really.

Anyhow, Mum did a top notch job of looking after me: restricting my exercise, feeding me well, and giving me company in the form of Bella the cat. Bella’s too lazy to hunt anything but the warmest spot to sleep in (so Mum says), and she lets me rabbit on (that’s the hat-trick of bun-puns, right there!) so I like her lots.

I’ve been back to see Karl and he’s well chuffed with my progress; there’s no sign of infection in my wound and I’m moving nicely on the leg he says. Being totally honest, I daren’t do anything that would harm my recovery. Karl, apparently, is a bit of a whizz in the Vet world – a big kahuna who is in the 2% of UK Vets that hold Advanced Practitioner Status from the Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons! Clearly I was in the best hands when I came to Saint Leonard Veterinary Centre. Good choice Mum, well played!

So there you have it; the story of Beatrice the (very) Brave! All that remains is for me to channel my inner Karl and say “Until next time; be safe, be well, and be happy” 🙂