Stasis

A day and a half after our trip away, Mr. Mustache... was not right. He was sitting in the corner, not eating, not hopping around as usual. 

Cue my internal panic.

I know just enough about pet rabbits to know about stasis: the GI condition where digestion slows down or stops. It can be deadly. It's always been in the back of my mind, every time one of the buns has been slow to take a snack, or hasn't attacked the lettuce pile with enthusiasm. 

I watched him for an hour.  Nope, not moving. Not good. I called the vet, and off we went.

Nearly five hours later, he'd had 170 ccs of fluid, five different meds, and we were home with additional meds, instructions for syringe feeding, and more. And for the next forty-eight hours, I dutifully plied Mustache with various syringes of various things, encouraging him to eat, mentally willing him to get better. 

(Statistics show that with early vet intervention, 70% of rabbits do survive stasis. I tried not to think about the other 30%. The very kindly vet student who had been assisting did give me a gentle warning, just in case, so I would be prepared.) 

And, mercifully, he did get better. And he got angrier and wigglier, too, as he got better, until it was nearly impossible to hold him and get a syringe into his mouth.  And then he began to nibble at his lettuce again, and his hay pile, and that's when I knew everything would be OK.

The other three rabbits were mystified at all the fuss and were fine. We have no idea why Mustache chose to have this Moment, but what a relief that it has passed. Let us hope it does not happen again. 

The rabbits are terrible pets: they consume resources, make a mess, eschew patting, and generally are aloof and un-cuddly. But I love them, and want the best for them.

Good boy, Mustache. I am glad you are better.