Something for the bunny nerds

This is an excerpt from an email I just sent to a fellow rabbit-owner. I'm sure I haven't shared my current bunny drama with all of you, but let's just say there's been a lot of it...

"We took Chomper in to see Dr. Maas today for the first time in about 6 weeks, just for a check-up - although I guess it's not JUST a check-up when you already know the animal is sick. He's been on this new medication for a week and a half, and seems to be doing better in all ways except his weight. Which, confirming our suspicions, is now 2/3 what it was six weeks ago. Dr. Maas also did a PAC (to check overall cell level in his blood) and found that he's now anemic - the next progressive step in the suspected leukemia. So Dr. Maas wanted to do a white blood count, which we agreed to, telling him that we may get the results and then make the decision to relinquish him to the office and, ultimately Rabbit Haven. Obviously we'd had to do some soul-searching for this one, but concluded that it would be better for Chomper to be with people who could really care for him 24/7, which we can't, and better for us not to have to watch him decline over the next few months.

So we're sitting in the waiting room, crying, when Dr. Maas comes back and asks whether we'd like some good news. Apparently, Chomper's white blood cell count was not only lower than it had been six weeks ago, it was within the normal range, and so was his lymphocyte level! This was better than even Dr. Maas had hoped - he said he ran the test twice just to be sure there wasn't some mistake. He said the medication he'd given us is one of those ones that, "we're not quite sure what exactly it does, we just know it does good," and that, although he won't say we're out of the woods yet, we're definitely making progress toward getting there. So he sent us with three more meds: a very low dose of steroid to treat the anemia, something to calm down Chomper's immune system (he found a slight auto-immune reaction in his blood - that the system was attacking whatever disease he has or had, and just kept going), and then an anti-biotic to prevent a secondary infection that could result from the immune-calming med. And we're switching him back to alfalfa pellets and a tablespoon of oats per day, to try and get the weight back on him, then bringing him back a week from today to do another weight check and see where we're at. Obviously, we - Dr. Maas included, I think - are all over the moon about this."



Chomper's the white one sticking out his tongue.

Date Night

So this is gonna sound totally lame, but we just had our first little date night in, oh I dunno, months? Payday is tomorrow, and we had a little drug money - er, a little money - leftover from the last two weeks, and figured we owed it to ourselves to spend it on ourselves. So we went to - wait for it - Red Robin. A brand-new restaurant, just opened on Monday, which happens to be on our commute to work (so, you know, we've been waiting for it). And I swear this thing went up in a matter of three weeks, which kind of makes me wonder about the structural integrity of the building...

But I digress.

We got off work at 7, and headed straight over to the restaurant, which was, as they say, a-hoppin'. As far as the gourmet burgers and drinks were concerned, the night was everything we'd dreamed it would be. But then there was our waitress. As she was obviously new to the food-service industry, I sympathized with her when she had to pull out a cheat sheet to tell us what she had on tap, and when she admitted she hadn't tried one of the burgers Irish was considering, but that she wanted to. But then she came back to check on us... before we had our drinks... after we had our drinks... when we'd just gotten our fries (good girl, because we did need some ranch)... again before the food arrived, interrupting us kissing... as soon as the food arrived, before we'd even taken a first bite... then a few more times while we ate... then to bring us the bill... then to check if we wanted our plates cleared... then probably another two times before we'd finally finished our drinks and handed over the debit card.

At first, it was annoying Irish, and I was just kind of laughing it off. But then, and I think it was the pre-first-bite-"How-is-everything?" that did it, it started annoying me too. So I feel like the enjoyment level of the date was compromised. And mind you, we only get one every couple months, apparently. (Although we have amazing ways of enjoying our days off, which I may or may not detail at a later time - and no, that's not a promise to detail our sex life.) So we came home, each filled out the little survey, and complained a little. I don't want the girl to get fired or anything - I get that she's still learning, and if some Red Robin head honcho calls me up to ask more details, I'll say as much.

...But I'm hoping we can get another (free) date out of it.

Oh, and on an unrelated note, do you think I should move this blog to a new URL? And by move, I mean recommence? I feel like it might be time for a fresh start, with real names, and no historical baggage. Weigh in, my darlings.