It has been a long time since I last trimmed the bunnies' nails. Trimming their nails is my least favourite chore - I would rather wash all the dishes by hand every day rather than trim their nails once every month. The reason why is mostly because rabbits are dumb and don't realize I'm trying to help them.
Most rabbit owners can trim their buns' nails by creating a so-called bunny-burrito: wrap the wretched thing up in a towel so it can't move and then fish out each paw, one-by-one, to clip the nails. This generally works for two out of three of my rabbits; the boys Thomas and Nobbers will quickly become resigned to their delicious-sounding fate and will submit to being groomed. Buster, my large, rowdy female? Not so much. She responds by kicking, biting, obsessive licking, hyperventilating and sometimes peeing. And she's a spiteful little bitch to: once you unwrap her you don't get a tip, a "thank you" or even a simple lothesome glare: she'll look you straight in the eye and bite you, before flicking her tail and running off.
|Does NOT approve|
I devised a solution. I build a tiny cage out of storage cube grids. I put a rabbit inside, lock the door and then begin grooming. Their paws/nails poke out of the bottom for easy access, and they aren't being
|An accurate rendering of the bunny |
There is one extra problem: quicks. Like dogs, rabbits have a vein that runs through each nail for a short space. If you cut their nails too short, you will cut the quick and cause them to bleed and hate you. The quick is easy enough to see if the rabbit has pale nails: you can shine a flashlight through it to see. With dark nails, like Thomas has, it's much more difficult. Thomas also has long quicks - he always has.
You can see where this is going.
I always leave Thomas to last because it terrifies me to cut his nails. I start shaking, feeling sick and sweating whenever I start trimming the rabbits' nails, and Thomas is the worst. On one occasion previously I made him bleed, and that was enough to scar me for life.
Well, I did it again this morning. *Snip* - and then he jerks back and now there's bright red everywhere. I frantically searched the cupboards for cornstarch to staunch the bleeding nail, and made a huge mess trying to smear it on a wounded rabbit. It was about this time that T walks into the kitchen - I'm holding a small bowl of pinkish non-Newtonian fluid, squatting in front of a rabbit torture device, my hands are covered in starch and blood, and there's an alarming red smear on the floor (which he immediately steps in as I warn "Watch the blood!").
|You are the worst owner.|
The worst part is that Thomas is more pathetic than indignant when I let him go: he just curls up in as small a ball as possible and looks terribly sad.
What the hell kind of animal has a vein in their nail? Shit.