Author Topic: Leporidae domesticus


Leporidae domesticus
« on: December 21, 2017 »
Over the course of the past two years I've become somewhat knowledgeable on the subject of the house rabbit.

If there's one thing you can't say to them, it's "No running in the house please."

Taking a keen interest in a hair straightener. No, you don't need that for your ears.

The back of that shelf has a plexiglass barrier bolted to it in what turned out to be a vain attempt at denying access to a place where appliances and various chargers are frequently plugged in. A minute or so after this picture was taken, he made the leap. It may not look too difficult, but note that it’s going from one slippery surface to another, at an awkward angle. We now keep these curtains closed if he’s in a scampy mood and we can’t directly supervise him.

Rabbits like to chew. They need to chew. Chewing is their specialist subject. Naturally, we provide objects specifically made to meet this need, such as this wood panel, which he occasionally deigns to nibble.

The bag his litter comes in is also on the approved list.

Then there's his collection of cardboard tubes.

Furniture is on the unapproved list (as are cords to Venetian blinds),

though the slats holding the mattress are OK, as long as they maintain structural integrity.

Moulding was a big worry before he arrived. To our relief, he’s satisfied himself with just a few nibbles here and there.

And he’s left the coffee table alone! Likewise the wing chair he's grooming underneath in the first picture.

Probably his very favourite targets, aside from my wife's slippers, are drapes.

Those hung unmolested for a dozen years. Oh well.

Who knows what he makes of my CD collection.

"My chosen subject is the music of Shania Twain"

Rabbit, rest.

Re: leporidae domesticus
« Reply #1 on: December 21, 2017 »
Who knows what he makes of my CD collection.

The lower shelves don't impress him much, but he's sad that the Leonard Cohen is out of reach.


glass house
« Reply #2 on: December 30, 2017 »

I don’t know what we'd do without glass. Not only would our living room be very drafty,

the little guy would be constantly dining on lower shelf books (we also use fireplace screens – we have quite a collection).

It keeps curious teeth from all manner of mischief, including plug point mayhem hidden in compelling crevices, and in this case, phone lines.

"You still have a landline? Not anymore."

Fortunately I have a bit of a glass fetish. It's almost like magic to me. And, I suspect, to him.

You've been eating too many books, bunny.

That's more like it.

I grew up in a small American town with a defunct glass factory. The gaffers, Europeans happily diving into the melting pot at the time, turned out all manner of objets de consommation.

Accessorised for that glass ceiling

This candle holder/rabbit bollard probably would've been too plain for their tastes, but pleases me and keeps him from digging into yet more infrastructure.

When we first prepared the house for its chompy new arrival I went down to the local tip and discovered people throw out good stuff all the time. Here’s my latest acquisition, so nice and solid and bevelled:

Scraping off the remains of the decal was a labour of love.

Are you sure you want to eat something that heavy before your nap?