“Mama’s gonna go now, Stankita, you be good.” This is usually the last thing my mommy says before she leaves in the morning. Exactly how much mischief can a little bunny who lives in a cage get into, you may wonder. Well when saying “you be good,” what she really means is, “don’t eat your fur.” Because “good bunnies don’t eat their fur – bad bunnies eat their fur.” And, unfortunately, occasionally, I am a bad bunny. I know it sounds kinda gross, but, yeah, sometimes I snack on my own fur. I just pull it out of my arms, chew and swallow it away. Ok, here’s the thing, as I’ve said before, I have malocclusion so when my teeth get really long, it gets hard for me to chew sometimes. If I can’t chew, then I can’t really digest, and I end up missing out on a lot of nutrients. And I go for the closest source of nutrients – my fur. Mommy has to file my teeth every 2 weeks. Here’s where this gets funky, 2 weeks is enough for me. My teeth don’t get too long for me to eat, and I can remain a healthy well-fed bunny…unless I feel like being a brat. And, my mommy doesn’t call me “Bratigail” for nothing. Sometimes, I just feel like eating my fur. I get hungry. Maybe if mommy really loved me, she’d give me all the food I wanted. She doesn’t usually buy that argument ’cause I’m a fat bunny, and if she gave me all the food I wanted, then…well, it would probably be a form of bunny abuse. I get more than enough hay. I get more than enough pellets. I get lettuce, broccoli, cilantro, carrots, etc. And I’ll admit, recently, I haven’t found eating my own fur too appetizing. That’s good for me and my mommy and my mommy’s wallet (vet bills).
Here’s the really narly part. We bunnies lack the ability to throw up. That means if we get a furball, we can’t bring it up, it has to pass through our systems. If it gets stuck, it can kill us. So, mommy gives me furball medicine that is supposed to be “great tasting.” At least, that’s what the package says. But, let me tell you, that stuff SUCKS! It’s disgusting. It’s made out of molasses, and it gets all over my cheeks, and I can’t lick it off, and it’s sticky. Eck.
So anyway, me eating my fur=me dying, and thus, I need to be a good bunny. Most of the time I am. It really isn’t that hard. But, I have a big appetite.