The semester is officially wrapped up and done, both for my classes and the high school classes I was working with. I do have one remaining high school student who is "flexing" her semester through the summer to finish up some work and her project. That's only one student, though, so it's not a ton of work for me. I do have to finish up the website my college students started but couldn't find time to finish. It's very needed and for a local non-profit, so I don't want to leave them hanging. Right now, that and gardening are my top priorities. I'll be really glad when that's wrapped up, so I can focus more on the garden, and a couple of classes I purchased but haven't yet had time to take.
We're in the midst of several painting projects in the house, and we have several more large repair projects that we need done over the summer, but are unqualified to do the work. We had a really good guy for a couple of years, but though the quality of his work is still outstanding, he flakes and can't be counted on at all anymore. I'm not sure what happened to him, but it's really a bummer. I have a couple of numbers to call, but I haven't been able to make myself do so yet. I really need these projects done, but I hate phone calls and I hate start out with new people. Every day I try to make myself call, but the last couple I tried didn't turn out well, and it's just so incredibly stressful to interact with new people and to allow new people (non veg.!) in our home. I would pay so much for a reliable vegan carpenter/handyperson! I anticipate this whole situation will be my "fly in the ointment" all summer. It's so annoying to have a long list of jobs (at least three weeks of work), money to pay, and be unable to find appropriate help.
Over my long blogging absence, our Fergus bunny finally succumbed to one of many ailments he was getting pounded with. He was quite old and as often happens with the very aged, he started to get one illness after another. We thought he would pull through the last one like he had all the others, but the little guy was just done. Fiona, his loving partner of 7 years, and I cared for him until the end. He was such a fun little guy and a great partner to Fiona. She lived without a partner, for the first time, for about a month.
I'm lucky to have a close friend with a rabbit sanctuary, so Fiona had a series of dates with some dapper rabbits of a variety of ages and sizes, and we were able to find a partner that was a good match. Ferrero was her last of four or five dates, and they definitely had the best chemistry. I think she would have been happy with any of them. She's a very chill rabbit and seems to be quite social with other animals of all species, and I've never seen any sign of aggression from her. However, when the intent is to keep the rabbits in the same room for the rest of their lives, I'd like the rabbits to actually enjoy and not simply tolerate one another.
It took a little longer to get Ferrero moved in than we initially anticipated. We knew he had some health issues (neutering! and an ear amputation), but there were some complications/infections, and that added a little time to his recovery period. It was rough seeing her so lonely during those weeks. Her activity level dropped, and she was definitely depressed. I gave her a large stuffed teddy bear, hoping at least having a soft body to sleep next to would help. Finally Ferrero moved in, so we split the room in half, and let them interact that way while I was not in the room, with free access when I was there to observe. After a several days of watching closely, I slowly extended their time out to include unsupervised time. After a week, it was clear that they were not having any issues at all and really, really wanted to be together, so we removed the barrier, and they've been happy together since.
They both enjoy working on their bunny construction projects--putting doors and windows in very specific arrangements in a series of cardboard boxes and tubes, and then arranging the boxes and tubes in very specific ways that I don't really understand. There is apparently a system, though, because if I move something, they make a point to hop over and rather rudely slam the box back into its designated spot. I swear there's a bit of an eye roll when they do it ("Fucking dumb human. Clearly the Amazon box should be next to the Shark box, not the small box!").
Fiona has always had a raging sweet tooth. They both loved their sweets (fruit and the sweeter veggies). You could use Fiona to accurately rank the glycemic index of a grouping of fruits and veggies. She will eat them always in order of most sweet to least. While Fergus enjoyed his strawberry tops as much as Fi, he would mix up the order a bit--some strawberry tops, some greens, more strawberry tops, more greens, etc. Not Fi. She eats from sweet to bitter--she even eats her mixed greens in this order, picking out the purples first, then moving to spinach, etc. All that is to say that I think she's been a bad influence on Ferrero. When he first came, he ate his greens, then his strawberry tops. I've noticed a gradual change, and the last couple of weeks, he eats all his strawberry tops before the greens now.
He's a sweet little guy, and I love him, but he's still warming up to me. When he arrived, he had been through so much--brought into a shelter as a stray with a host of physical injuries, surgeries, medications, transferring homes--he's had a rough time. He moved into yet another new environment, with a new person, and I had to give him antibiotic injections. He had no trust in me, so it was pretty brutal. He would run and try to hide in the corner, while I had to grab him and inject him between the shoulder blades. He would cower and lean away like I was abusing him. I felt awful. The injections are long since done, but now I have to build trust, as I violated it right off the bat. He likes my feet, and headbutts my feet and legs a lot. I talk to him and and am slowly earning his trust as the food lady. He's not really excited about my hands, yet. We'll get there. Slowly.
They called him, though, and he volunteered to come in, and do surgery on Ivan. It was the best option for quickly figuring out what was going on and potentially repairing it. I will forever be grateful to him for coming in when he was feeling so poorly. I have serious trust issues and was falling apart over my baby, and I trust Dr. Mark implicitly. He is the only one who could have given me the comfort and assurance I needed to survive this without second guessing myself for the rest of my life. I'm fine with all the vets at the clinic, but he's been with me through so much for more than twenty years. I can count on one hand the number of people who I trust to that level. He's been with Ivan since the beginning, and even my grouchy Ivan trusted him and allowed him "touch privileges" which were accorded to very few people.
I've loved Ivan since the day he was found newborn, abandoned in a driveway, on May 9, 2004. He was my first cat, and the bond we shared was profound. Ivan always kept me in sight. Wherever I was, I could almost always count on finding Ivan somewhere within range--he may be hiding, but he was always close and watching. He had intense needs for cuddles, and if given the option, would be touching me 24 hours a day. As long as he was touching me, he couldn't be happier. He spent most of the rest of the time being grouchy and complaining. He loved his sisters and Mark and was extremely affectionate with them too. Being the center of someone's universe is a huge responsibility and could be exhausting and even frustrating at times. It also means that he was a huge part of every second of my existence, and I'm absolutely lost with him. I look for him 100 times a day and am currently on my third day of a cry-induced migraine.
Posts
