Hutch has just gone to the Bridge. It turns out, he had been ill for some time, but he showed no signs. He fooled us all, including the vets whom he regularly saw for his dentals. No-one noticed anything wrong with Hutch.
He always ate well and never gave any appearance of pain or illness, but lately, he developed an eye infection. Yesterday, I took him to get his eye checked, and for the first time ever, he had a messy bum. Both vet and I thought he appeared thin, but when we put him on the scales, we discovered his weight went up, not down.
Later in the evening, as I was cleaning his eye, I was shocked at how firm his belly was—it had no give to it whatsoever. It was solid. I immediately went to take some of the blood from him and ran it through our glucometer, sure it’d be super-high because something was definitely drastically wrong, but his glucose was completely normal. Perhaps, he had a bit of gas?
Michael suggested Hutch's messy bum could have been due to his recent celery overindulgence, and we hoped his tummy would soften overnight. But it hasn’t, and today, I again tested his blood glucose: normal. I offered him some parsley. He ate it. I realised he wasn’t running away from me like he did in the past, and remembered we all noticed that for a few months, Hutch had been spending a lot more time outside his hiding places and was always under our feet, out in the open, which was unusual for a wild bunny—and for him, too. But then, he ate well, and he never gave any indication of being in pain: he was not seen grinding his teeth; he didn’t sit in a hunched up position typical for a rabbit in pain; he had never collapsed. He was perky, but he didn’t run away from us, and last night, Michael said he gave him a little head rub—and this was definitely not like Hutch. And why, despite having put on the weight, he looked so thin? And what’s with this rock-hard tummy? Something wasn’t right, but what?
I immediately rang the vet, and she saw us right away. She x-rayed Hutch and noted he was just too easy, too cooperative through the procedure—he had always put up a fight in the past. His belly was definitely too firm, and the X-ray didn’t show anything to go on, so we shaved his belly, and I held Hutch as she did an ultrasound. There was something strange—a huge round mass in his belly, so large the vet couldn’t even think what it could possibly be. I asked how soon she could operate, and she said she'd take him through right away.
This was when Hutch had his first kiss—the first kiss he had from anyone at Helicopter Ears. He was a wild bunny, and we always had to be very quick and efficient with him. He hated being touched, and I never got as close as to kiss him. But he let me. And then, I went to give him a head rub too, and he didn’t flinch in the slightest. For the first time, he appeared to enjoy a human touch, not run from it. And how soft he was! I told him how much we loved having him around and what a special rabbit he was, and then I let the vet take over. Somehow, I knew Hutch would not be waking up from this operation. I knew this was a goodbye.
As I waited in reception, a nurse appeared and asked if I wouldn’t mind coming into the operating theatre. I didn’t mind at all. As Hutch lay there anaesthetised, with all the due tubes and a mask, the vet showed to me what had been bothering him—there was an abscess in his belly, and it was the size of a large mango. In fact, the abscess was his belly. It was inoperable for a number of reasons. The mass had been pressing on the organs and compressing his intestines, which would explain the messy bum. As it was dislodged during the operation, there was a drop in blood pressure—the abscess was no longer providing the pressure it used to—and Hutch began to struggle under the anaesthetic. It would have been impossible to safely remove the abscess: some of the intestines fused to it and appeared necrotic in places; blood vessels enveloped it, and a large artery ran through it. Even if there would have been a chance of him surviving the operation, which there wasn’t, the risk of septicaemia was too high, and he would likely not recover. I asked the vet to put Hutch to sleep there and then, and she gave him the injection.
We weighed the abscess—even partially drained, it was around the massive 400 g. We also weighed Hutch, and he was his normal 1.1 kg. It was unbelievable that somebun with an abscess as large as his ate so well as not to lose weight. His thin appearance was likely due to his stomach being disproportionately large in relation to the rest of his body, and his resent tameness must have been due to the discomfort from the abscess. Vets mainly operate on domestic bunnies, and she had never seen an abscess as big as Hutch's—in any rabbit at all, large or small. She thought only a wild rabbit could have been so strong to survive as large an abscess in his stomach for so long, especially being as small as Hutch, but wild rabbits rarely live so long as to grow a large abscess, and not able to run swiftly, they wouldn’t stand a chance against predators.
So, our Hutch is now gone. His body is now with Dottie so that she can say goodbye to her buddy.
He was the first and so far the only wildie at Helicopter Ears and a true superbun, old and wise. He must have been one of the oldest wild rabbits, and even despite having to live in captivity, he remained a true wild soul. Everybody loved and respected Hutch. We’ll miss him. He was a most gentle rabbit, so sweet, so innocent, and he brought a touch of wilderness to us at Helicopter Ears, and he will be very much missed.
See the original of this post on our Facebook page.
Hello from Rita, bunnies! As I have been separated from my bun-friend (temporarily, I hope), and deprived of my favourite activity of pulling his fur, I’ve taken it upon myself to run the website. Though it may not look like much, I think I’ve done quite well so far: I have a few pages at the top that are working, and I’m starting to put in other content, moving our Facebook page over to here, for posterity - and for fun. More content is coming soon. I hope you like it, because I don’t. There’s nothing much to like here yet. But trust me, I’m gonna get my paws dirty and I’ll show you what I can do. Rita ❤
