Last night my sister’s Jack Russell, Mocha, had five more puppies. She’s a machine. This litter was the uh, broken condem litter. The male, Max, was supposed to be neutered to avoid this. Oops.
One puppy was born with her intestines on the outside, I’m told, which makes me kind of weepy and also kind of sickly. She was euthanized late last night at the emergency vet.
Lucy, ever the needy attention whore, was feeling very insecure yesterday when Kiddo and I showed up with a cardboard box full of Veronica.
There was much bitching and complaining on her part, as she’s sure not a moment could pass without someone petting or acknowledging her and only her. She’s simply convinced she’d perish.
When I annouced, “We got a bunny!” my friend immediately asked, “WHY??”
To be honest, I have no idea. Because I make rash decisions and run with them? Because she was free? Because the free cage I already had was purple? Because we don’t have enough pets?
Kiddo dubbed her Veronica immediately. I call her V and also Come Here, You Little Shit! (Okay, once. I swear I’m a good bunny-mama.)
We’re slowly allowing her to get comfortable in her cage, in my room, around us, and it seems to be working out just fine. Here’s hoping.
-CJ
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