Out to Pasture

When we brought Pippin and Merry home four and a half years ago, we first put them outside in the big hutch Handy Man bought me for Easter. Here we were introducing them to Arwen.

I wanted to have them in the classroom some.

And I knew they weren't long lived in outdoor pens.  That nice hutch has served many functions, but mostly for chickens. They just were so little to leave outside. So, I didn't just buy one indoor cage, I bought two and kept one at school and one at home.  For a time they would stay all week at school and just come home on the weekends.  They say you can train them to a litter box and that is somewhat true.

Can you stand the cuteness.  He was my nibbler.

All of the pee and most of  the millions of poo pellets landed in the the box, but they were masters at slinging Timothy grass and random pellets all over.  We always referred to them as our bad puppies.

His brother Merry was not as friendly, but didn't nibble.

 When I took the bunnies to visit the gramerling's classroom (in another school) , a little boy told him he'd pets those bunnies when his scout group uses our school.  Hmm. Between not knowing who would have access to the bunny boys and the constant mess, I brought them home.

They've been right here by the computer to keep me entertained ever since. Well, until this past Monday.

They liked being fed on schedule. You wouldn't know there was a critter in the corner until 6 pm when they would start banging their ceramic bowl around until you got yourself over there and fed them.

They would venture out on field trips to the yard and porch, where they were ever loved and adored by the masses.

Bunny Pillows

 Young and old alike.

 This little mister, Pippin, seemed to suffer the ravages of old bunny age more than his brother.  He was blind and this summer was no longer able to discern where to do his business.  I couldn't keep either of their bottoms dry, no matter what I did.  I decided it would be best to move them back out to the big hutch, where the entire bottom is wire.  We sat them close to Strider, in a shady spot, so we would know they were safe, and dry.  We knew he was failing fast. He was so wee, half the size of his brother.

Handy Man felt the time was near and made a box and brought me the lid to write on.  He was right.  Pippin, our little nibbling hobbit boy, laid down to rest on Wednesday and didn't get back up.  I look over at that cage ten times a day. We will miss his soft sweetness.