Hello All,
I stumbled across this site last night as I was looking for websites regarding wild cottontail bunnies. A week ago, my significant other brought home a little baby cottontail bunny found in a field by a warehouse. This bunny had obviously lost its mother, and the little baby bunny it was playing with got scooped up by a cat. Therefore, no other thoughts had come across my mind, other than to raise it and care for it. A similar situation had happened two years ago. This bunny was also found in a field having been attacked by a cat. It had a big scar on its side and part of one of his bunny ears chewed off, but he somehow survived this and is still with us today doing wonderfully. My s/o named the baby bunny who arrived last week "Buster," even though we were not able to determine its sex as of yet. I teach school and my vacation began the day he arrived home, so this was perfect timing for me to raise the baby, love it, care for it and play with it. He seemed to lose his fear when I held him. He began to drink his formula in plastic bottle caps, and would drink like crazy. When he began to eat carrots (and he was still smaller than a racquetball), I knew he would be ok. Everytime I would go near his cage to play with him or feed him, he would stand on his back legs and paw at his cage, looking happy to see me. I would supervise him as he hopped around on the bed, and though he did run so fast as to fall off a couple of times, he quickly got up and began running around on the floor until I caught him and put him back on the bed. Tuesday night, my world completely changed, and so did his. After I picked him up out of his cage, I tried to close the bedroom door, as there are two parakeets that I don't want the cats to get at. As I closed the door, the bunny decided to run up my arm and fell off onto the floor. This sound was the worst I ever heard in my life, and I very quickly picked him up off the floor, as he was laying pitifully on his side. As I tried to revive him, he ran up my arm and fell off again. I held him for two hours after this, hoping he was only in shock. He seemed to regain his strength and was trying his hardest to run either to the top of my shoulder and burrow under my hair, or to just hop somewhere. I tried to feed him some carrots thinking this would maybe calm him, but he didn't want to eat. Despite the pain and torture he had just gone through, he was still trying to fight for his life. A couple of hours later, he stopped breathing, and today I have the sad task of burying him. Because of his beautiful coat and cute little markings, I had considered taking him to a taxidermist, but figured he deserved to rest in peace. I am devastated that I, the one he was beginning to trust, am responsible for his death. He was in my life for only five days, but he brought so much happiness into the house, and I will never forget him or his demeanor. I will never get over the fact that I ended his life. Thank you for letting me take up your time as you read this.