Had to take Creasy the rabbit in for his snip snip operation today, which wasn't much fun. He was chilled out and no trouble at all, but I couldn't help but feel guilty, in that "Sorry, little dude, you have no idea what bad stuff is coming down the pipes, despite it being for the best" sort of way.
Many, many good things about living in the country, and I'm very glad we moved out to the sticks, but having slightly odd pets such as rats and rabbits makes vet trips a little more stressful than they'd otherwise be. He'll be fine, and it's not brain surgery, but not exactly comforting when I'm checking him in for his operation and the receptionist immediately says "Oh wow, it's a rabbit, we almost never treat those."
Rabbit/human relations have been pretty amusing so far, as this is the first time I've ever had a rabbit as a pet. My wife is trying her damnedest to turn him into a cuddly lap bunny, which is having mixed results so far. This leads to much grabbing of him during his playtime at night, hauling him into her lap, and attempts to subdue his manic rabbit energy by petting and cuddling. Which more often than not is met with much squirming and biting and resistance. Me, I just lay on the couch and ignore him, which the last few nights results in him getting bored, jumping up on the couch with me and laying next to me so his ears can be scratched, triumphantly glaring at my wife, who naturally gets all sorts of pissed off.
Yes, that's all I've got. Rabbit talk. What fresh hell is this?