Paw prints on the Soul

[janestarz]

The vacuum cleaner is gone and so is the cage. All the tiny bits of straw and sawdust have been patiently hoovered, and each and every one I could find has been cleared away. I crawled on my knees under desks and checked halfway up the bookcase just to make sure I got them all.
My carpet is pristine for the fist time in weeks. Oh sure, I hoovered every weekend, making sure to pull through my last remaining energy on Saturday so I could start my weekend with a clean home. Soon enough, the bunny would be out of its cage and its fur would deposit tiny bits of straw and sawdust in every nook and cranny. And you can trust a rabbit to find every damned nook and cranny.

Joepie - who turned out to be a doe after all - was getting very territorial and also very naughty. Chastising her was hard, because every time I picked her up she struggled like mad. I finally sent Marianne, the friend of my neighbour, a message saying it was slowly becoming a war. I couldn't even reach into the cage to feed Joepie anymore -- she'd attack my hand almost every time. Getting her into the cage was getting harder every time too, as she knew outside the cage it was far too much fun. Yesterday I spent five minutes chasing her around the room before I could corner her and get her in the cage.

The room is pristine, all the furniture back where it belongs after my exercise in vacuum cleaning. My shoes and clothes, the laundry basket might still hold little scraps of straw, waiting to float down on the blue carpet.
The scratches on my arms and hands will heal in time, angry red inflamed but healing nonetheless.
Other things are a testimony of the time Joepie spent with me. The bite marks on my boxes, the legs of my table, or even the plinth below the radiator. The bit of carpet thread she pulled loose next to the pipes. The way I can never look at little black drops of licorice the same way^*. And the paw prints on my soul.

Fare you well, you heinous bitch of a bunny. It's been good (enough).

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*) We had licorice from Drenthe at work. Small black drops, roughly the size of a rabbit dropping. I told them the ones we have at work taste far better than those I got at home.

Comments

[muizenstaartje.livejournal.com]

Hoknijd (en baknijd) komt wel vaker voor bij voedsters. Het is vaak deels hormonaal en deels te weinig ruimte, waardoor het konijn dat kleine beetje dat ze heeft ook niet wil delen. Mijn konijn Margriet had dat ook en kon naast uitvallen ook erg hard grommen (ik gaf haar een stuk fruit zodat ik haar etensbak kon pakken). Dolly heeft het alleen gehad wanneer er een schijnzwangerschap aan zat te komen, maar zij heeft meer ruimte tot haar beschikking (groter hok met twee verdiepingen en meer ruimte daar buiten).
Snap wel dat het vervelend is wanneer je zelf niet even wat meer ruimte kan maken voor een logeerkonijn en maar met een uitvallend konijn moet leven. Konijnen zijn huisdieren met een handleiding. ;) (en heel anders dan katten.)