Lucky Edgar Wapass
Poor little bunny was hopping forlornly about a back alley. We were biking to the gym and Dan saw him first. Little white rabbit. I knew immediately it wasn't a wild rabbit, though he might be feral. He was a domestic dwarf species of rabbit out there bouncing around. I got off my bike and followed him and he headed into the crack between two buildings. I tried to coax him out for awhile but he wouldn't come out. He kept digging in the snow at the end trying to find a way out to the front. Of course, that would not be good if he succeeded because that was a busy street. I didn't want to panic him into doing something stupid so I just waited, tried a bit more, then left and worried. I was certainly worried. I tried to console myself, telling myself that most rabbits, wild or domestic, only see six months to two years of life anyway. I knew he'd become prey in spring with his white coat if he survived our harsh winter. It was terribly harsh too, very cold at -18C and going down. Nights were colder at -24C and this winter promised far more. It would likely reach extremes as low as -40C before the winter gave out.
I thought about the little guy off and on at the gym and determined to go by there and see him again on the way home. The whole time I was wondering how to convince Dan to let me bring him home. I thought maybe I could take him to the rabbit rescue, though I know they're overloaded and likely not taking in any new rabbits, nor all that great a place for him. I knew too that the SPCA is currently overloaded. What's more, the accommodations there are so poor that rabbits go mad long before anyone adopts them, and are put down. If that's the best we could offer this guy, better we let him face the winter and die free. Still, what could I do? Somehow I'd figure out a way to house him and perhaps seek him a good home from here, if we did catch him. I was not going to go to any great lengths. He would have to let himself be caught if he wanted to get indoors.
When we got back there, he was not in the crack between buildings but rather out in the snow behind some junk. I approached softly and slowly, speaking to him, offering again a warm bed and a full tummy. He didn't run. I walked closer. He hopped away, but not panicked, just afraid. I went round the other way, he hopped back. I went back to the start and signalled Dan. If we got him behind that pile of junk and we were on either end, odds are nothing but a heroic leap would keep him from being caught! So we cornered him and gently narrowed the space. He then allowed himself to be taken, giving only a token struggle and relaxing into my gentle warm arms. We packed him in a towel in my basket with a pack to keep him in and trucked him home. Not once did he so much as twitch his nose. I wondered at one point if he had died enroute but a tickle to the nose brought a slight twitch. He wasn't dead, just holding very very still. Perhaps playing dead. Perhaps dead tired?
We got him set up with a cage and put in hay, pellets, fresh water, and just a bit of fresh lettuce and a carrot. Not too much as his tummy likely wasn't used to wet food and we don't want to cause colic. He tucked into that hay like the starving animal he was. Sampling a bit of this and that, here and there, he soon made short work of the freshies and downed most of the pellets while making good use of the hay as food and bedding alike. After petting him awhile I realized his bones were much too prevalent. He might not be frostbitten or bedraggled, although he was a bit dirty, but he had been out there more than that day!
We named the little guy, after ensuring his gender, Lucky Edgar Wapass. Lucky, for obvious reasons, Edgar after albino guitarist Edgar Winters, and Wapass for the cree name for rabbits. These folks include rabbits as a staple of their diet and when they hear of my pets always call them Wapass and say it with a ring of hunger, the way one of us might speak of chocolate or steak. Had we not found this guy, he would have likely been Wapass sooner than winter could take him. Bad part of town in which to be a rabbit, it's populated by poor people and mostly First Nations people. Folks who often grew up in the hinterland, hunting for supper. To them he'd be a lucky feast!
It wasn't long after his capture that I learned another fantastic surprise about my new husband. He was 100% in favour of rescuing and keeping this guy, even though we have too many rabbits already and he'll cost us yet more money, and cause us yet more grief! He says he just couldn't live with himself if he chose to leave a cute little bunny out to freeze! Oh such a tender heart has my dear husband. More tender than mine. I truly thought that any man who would love animals so deeply would already have his own menagerie and that would keep us apart. Here, though, I found a man at a point in life when he had no pets, yet completely pet oriented. :-) How lucky am ? As lucky as Lucky!
Lucky is turning out to be a very relaxed, very tame and affectionate little guy and shows extreme appreciation of his change in circumstances. I can tell he feels rescued! My other male, Toby, is very much put out though. All my buns are altered but they're still sensitive to hormones, and Lucky being unaltered and in puberty is putting them out by the snootfull. Poor Toby is mad with testosterone rage, attacking everyone in sight and spraying and pooping all over the floor. He is getting himself locked up within minutes of being let out for exercise. Flora is a bit put out by the disruption but mostly taking it all in stride. She was once a feral rabbit and more than anyone here understands how lonely it can be. Freddy, also a rescue rabbit, doesn't even know there's someone else in the house! Till Lucky makes his way bravely up the stairs to see her, she won't realize it. Or the smell might cue her. However, I doubt she'll respond positively when the White Rabbit comes tripping up the steps! It's taken Flora nearly three years to win Freddy over. They're friends now!
We'll get Lucky neutered soon as we can reasonably say we haven't located his owner, just in case he's an escapee, not a dumpee. It's unlikely though. Most of the time they're dumped for being too hard to handle. Few people let them roam loose in such a way as to allow the rabbit to escape out a door by accident.