Spitboy and Furball
by Erin Ford
Here I am, both hands busy emptying litter pans, and from the other room I hear, "MOM! Come here
quick," said with such urgency. My six year old says everything with great urgency.
"In a minute - I'm with the rabbits," I reply.
"No - NOW!!! You'll miss it!!!" he replies.
Reluctantly I go see what he wants. It's the cat, he's being cute, Nigel informs me. Grumbling I go back to rabbit maintenance. This is typical in our house. When I started working with rabbits my son was excited; it was new and he was first to see all the new furry critters that came through the door. He would share with his class what goes on in our house and they would OOOH and AHHH when we brought them to show and tell.
What he didn't share is that Mom spends four to five hours a day cleaning and caring
for them. We went through a time when he didn't like the rabbits - they took away Mom. I worried that
perhaps Nigel would grow up to hate rabbits. I made sure he didn't have to do any cleaning of rabbit
messes and that I put aside an extra hour just for him, and soon Nigel was offering to help. When anyone
would come to our house it was Nigel's job to introduce "his rabbits" and tell all he knew about them. He
would demonstrate how to safely pet them. "Now, you keep your hand flat and start up on top of the head,"
I would hear him explain. He has since laid claim to several of the bunnies that come through our house,
one of which has been moved into his room.
He told me that when he grows up he wants to be a "rabbit person" (he also wants to be a super hero called "spit-boy").
I think that would be just great.