Hello. It's Belinda.
Your favorite messy rabbit is sick. “Little Fang.” Also known as my boyfriend’s companion.
I’ve been so distracted with all of it that I don’t have a “work report” for this blog.
But I do have a shocking announcement about “banana-flavored” medicine. Straight from the fang if you know what I mean.
It all started a few days after Christmas. I was sound asleep when I woke to yelling.
“Hey!”
I opened my eyes. I could see my boyfriend’s companion across the room, in her pen. She was just a dark shape.
“Hey!”
Her voice sounded funny. Like she was afraid of something. That made me jump to my feet.
I ran to the pen and pushed my nose through the bars. She was sitting on a pee pad.
“I don’t feel good. Go get foster mom.”
My heart started pounding. I didn’t even correct her about our roommate.
I ran upstairs to the kitchen. I thumped so loudly.
After a minute I heard feet on the stairs. The living room light came on. Then the dining room. I was still thumping.
My roommate appeared around the corner. Her hair stuck out sideways.
“Belinda! Stop this racket. It’s five o’clock in the morning!”
But when she saw my face she stopped scolding. Just followed me down the steps to the bottom level.
She turned on the light and we looked at the pen. My boyfriend’s companion was sitting like a statue. Not moving. I didn’t like it one bit if you want to know the truth.
It was a mess in her pen and that is all I am going to say.
“My poor little bat. Are you sick?”
My roommate climbed into the pen. She started fussing over my boyfriend’s companion. I knew she would know what to do.
Next thing you know “Little Fang” is moved to the kitchen. Sleeping box, exercise pen, her favorite towels. Two water bowls.
I sat beside the refrigerator and watched her chew some cilantro. Told myself it was a good sign.
When the vet office opened a few hours later, they left without saying goodbye. That’s how worried everyone was. You forget to say goodbye when someone in the house is sick.
Turned out my boyfriend’s companion had a bladder infection. Which I probably shouldn’t say. But this is related to work.
They came home from the vet with two kinds of medicine. An antibiotic and eye drops. “One dose morning and evening.”
Seemed easy enough. Except the patient was “feisty.”
First of all, she hated the eye drops. I heard it every morning while I was trying to work.
“Please hold your head still.”
“Open your eyes. Excuse me. Open your eyes.”
“Stop squinting! It’s running down your cheek.”
“No! Don’t lick it! Stop!”
It was even worse with the antibiotic. You are supposed to sip it from a little dropper. In my opinion that’s the way to go. Just get it over with.
Not with you-know-who.
“Stop turning your head.”
“Please take your medicine. Please. It’s for your bladder.”
“Come on. It’s good! It tastes like bananas.”
My boyfriend’s companion started to feel better within a day or two. But she had to keep taking the medicine.
And stay in the kitchen. “To be monitored.”
Which meant I spent most of my time there too. It’s what friends do.
And that’s where I learned the truth about banana-flavored medicine.
We don’t get banana here. I know it’s hard to believe. I hear a lot about banana from my friends. It sounds "delectable" but I'm not allowed to have it. None of us are.
If you want to know why you’ll have to ask my roommate. Touchy subject.
So I asked my boyfriend’s companion about it. If the medicine tasted like “forbidden fruit.”
Her answer was shocking.
“It tastes like eye drops.”
Sincerely,
Belinda
Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select
