Creek Running North

Oh, poor dear!

(Considering the expense, I don’t know if that more properly refers to the rabbit or your wallet)

At least he’s back home where he belongs.  Give him whatever token of affection he’ll accept, on my behalf.

Poor bunny. What good is a lucky rabbit’s foot with two toes missing? Guess it will be lucky if the sacrifice aids a cure. Best wishes.

I never thought of medicine on a per pound basis!
That makes elephants the most cost effective land pets one could own, right? And how could anyone afford to take a mouse to the vet — ouch!

I guess those weren’t lucky rabbit toes. Best not to save them.

Responsible vets are the worst, aren’t they? Ever since she turned six or so, the puppy gets these puffy cyst things on her head and face, and occasionally on her paws; they’re essentially just fat moles, and they’re a known issue with cockers.

But every single time, the vet manages to talk me into sending it off for biopsy. “It’s probably benign, but this one spot looks a little funny — I think we’d better check and be sure.” And of course it is always benign. I always swear to myself that next time I’ll put my foot down and refuse the biopsy, but when the time comes, I can’t steel myself to do it — what if this one is the bad one?

Oh, the price we pay for advances in veterinary medicine.

Best recovery wishes to Thistle and family.

I really like your vet.

The picture makes it look like the vet took all four legs!  Poor guy looks like a bunny bean-bag; a $142 a pound bunny bean-bag. He’s very lucky though.  Where else in nature would one life form care so very much for the welfare of another.

Common thread around here.  I wish I could afford the healthcare the cats get.

The late Lowell (Boy) had what was then called Feline Urological Syndrome, back before someone realized they could charge more by changing the name.  Each of his three attacks occurred on the weekend, so off to the emergency vet, $200 to walk in the door.

The problem was eventually solved when a new vet suggested he simply stay on the special diet he’d been put on for thirty days only after each attack. 

Last year my wife took both cats to the vet, one for hairballs, the other for shedding.  Result, in the former:  $200 in tests plus the cost of the visit, and a recommendation he be brought in for a $500 cardiogram to determine the nature of the heart murmur he’s had for ten years, though that determination wouldn’t lead to any treatment.  In the latter:  a $600 bone-marrow test which determined she should have died a decade ago, but was going to go on living.  And A still has hairballs, and B still sheds.  Best wishes to Thistle.  May he survive allopathy.

Cool rabbit

Hope it gets better.

Poor Thistle.  That’s quite the expression he has, there.

I’m tickled that my new favorite blog author also has a house rabbit. I’m glad that Thistle is back home and I wish him a speedy recovery. My friends have health insurance for their dog, and I’ve looked and looked but can’t find a company that offers coverage for rabbits. BTW, you and Thistle both are lucky to have avoided the cone. Our girl Sadie had to have one (custom made, out of spent x-ray plastic and first aid tape) and it meant she couldn’t groom herself or get to her cecotropes, which ended up smeared all over the outside of the cone. Yucky for everyone concerned.

Poor little wabbit. Hope he feels better soon. (that refers to your pocket)