THE RABBIT, THE HEDGEHOG, AND THE HEN THAT WASN'T

Usually I transport cats in the shop van. Sometimes but not often, if Phil isn't available, it may be a dog. I've also picked up a rabbit. This time, three animals from three different species were in need of re-homing at the same time and Tracy of Tendercare Cattery at Burnhope (see several previous posts) was willing to take them all. She wanted the rabbit as company for a pet guinea pig, the hedgehog because she wanted one as a pet, and the hen because she has several already and likes free range eggs.

The rabbit was a bog standard pet rabbit. A no-frills bunny and, to my limited knowledge of rabbits, quite a lively one.

I had to pick up the hedgehog from John Paul who owns JP Pet Supplies on the other side of the river at Fulwell and who delivers large bags of cat litter to Carol. Why anyone would want a hedgehog as a pet, I had no idea, nor why it wasn't just dumped in the wild at an appropriate safe place. But then I hadn't seen it. Because it wasn't just your ordinary British hedgehog most commonly seen squashed on country roads or, recently, ambling up my street in a still-light early evening. No, it was an-

African Pigmy Hedgehog

And not just an ordinary African Pigmy Hedgehog but an albino African Pigmy Hedgehog. Apparently APHs, which come in various colours, are bred as pets. We had this one due to family problems of which I'm aware but am not going to write about. It reminds me of a spiny sea urchin.

Now the hen was rescued by Gary, Carol's ally over at Bunnyhill. He'd found it in a bedraggled state in someone's back garden. And, as with the hedgehog, it didn't look quite how I imagined.

So off I went with the rabbit, the African Pigmy hedgehog, and the hen driving through Durham City and up into the hills beyond to the village of Burnhope.

When I arrived, I was assaulted by her two dogs.

But in a nice way.

Tracy told me the hen wasn't a hen but a cockerel which she hadn't wanted as her others would gang up and kill it. However, as it's a young cockerel she thinks they might be okay. It's also of some fancy breed, the name of which she couldn't quite remember. She put it and the rabbit temporarily in a cat pen. A second after the photo below was taken, the bird pecked the curious rabbit on the top of the head.

And that's all folks.

WHAT HAPPENED BEFORE THE SHOP OPENED

This isn't a particularly cheerful post and there is a photo of an ill rabbit. If you're feeling squeamish, then skip this this post, though there are also some kitten photos as well.

Already booked in at Roker Park was a young female to be neutered which is why I was up and out early. I called in at the Council tip (refuse) on the way there to dispose of a couple of large boxes of rubbish from the new shop. As I approached the entrance I saw a rabbit sitting in the middle so I got out an, assuming it to be a wild one, intended nudging it to hop into the greenery to one side. Only it didn't move and let me pick it up. I now assumed it to be an escaped domestic pet and popped it into a cat carrier I had with me and then off to Carol's. There I picked up the cat to be spayed and also Carol and an elderly cat which, poor thing, was on its last legs and we were going to do the  hardest and kindest thing of all.

At the vets, the female cat was quickly checked and taken through the back to await the operation. The vet took one look at the rabbit and said, "It's a wild rabbit and it has myxomatosis." I said, "Put it to sleep, please."

Late in the afternoon and I was back at the vets and chatting to a young woman who'd come back for the rabbit she'd left that morning. She hadn't heard of myxomatosis so I explained that it was a natural disease that had been modified by man to kill off a plague of rabbits and used to deadly effect in the 1950's in the UK when it had a fatality rate of 95%. That is now down to about 50% here as many of the survivors' descendants inherited or developed an immunity. But that doesn't stop it being a horrible way for an animal to die. The vet told me that it's quite common in this area which, having spoken to Tracy at Burnhope today, I'm taking to be the North East as a whole. Here's a photo I took of it.

At least I was able to end its suffering.

It was painful too watching the other cat being put to sleep. Its veins had shrunk and it took four attempts before the vet found one wide enough to take the syringe. After that it was thankfully just moments.

Back at Carol's I took a few photos of the grey cat's litter and the some of the three litters with their mother/foster-mother.

Coming soon: The Rabbit, The Hedgehog, and The Hen That Wasn't.

"THEY CALL IT STORMY MONDAY/ BUT TUESDAY'S JUST AS BAD"

Once more to Carol's to pick up two young males for neutering. At her gate one of them breaks out of the carrier and shoots off down the road before I can even react. I follow him for about fifty years when he darts between houses and disappears. I'm utterly shocked and saddened. I've failed that little cat.

I get the other one to the vets and was going to go swimming then but I'm so down about the escaped cat that I just can't summon any enthusiasm or energy and instead go and deliver two neutering vouchers. This proves more complicated than I expected as in one court-like area where I'm looking for No.12, the logical place is on a corner from No.11 but the house there has no number and the house next door is 14. A couple of passersby can't help me so I approach the gate of 11 which has a 'Beware of the Rottweiler' hanging from it and as I raise the latch I find out why.

Barking loudly, a massive rotty hurtles towards the gate, plonks its paws on the top and continues barking into my face. But it's all show. Its owner arrives and tells me he just barks at strangers and within a minute I'm petting him -the rottweiler that is, not its owner. Turns out that there is no No.13 and the house without a number is in fact 12.

That done, I return home where Susan already knows about the escaped cat courtesy of a phone call from Carol. It's 9.30. Just after 10.15 I pick up Andrea and her four bunnies to take them all to the vets. Here they are. I'm the one with several chins.

The bunnies are all okay so we then go to visit a couple to finalise their adoption of Sky the 3-month old collie pup. He's a lovely friendly and lively dog in a very friendly and lively chewy stage which he proves by attempting to eat my hands and my face. And here he is.

After dropping Andrea and her bunnies off I call in at Asda on the way home to get more cat food for Carol as I every intention of spending a week in Lanzarote starting on Thursday and have to get her two weeks supply. 

Mid-afternoon and I call in at the shop to pick up some Drontol flea killer from Andrea for Carol and ring the vets about the cat as I'm intending to pick it up shortly. Turns out it's been bleeding a little and they want to keep it another couple of hours to make sure it's okay. That piece of news following on from the escape of its brother makes me feel a little flat and it's an effort to go back to Asda to pick up cat litter (which I forgot to do earlier) and then take it to Lilian at Silksworth (see earlier posts), a lady with special needs whom we gave a cat to. All is well with the cat.

Eventually I manage to get  to the vets and pick up the cat which is fine, unhappy and loudly letting everyone know it, but fine, and drop it, the Drontol, and the food off at Carol's. On the way home I treat myself to an Indian takeaway which proves to be blander than I expected.

Tomorrow morning I'm dropping the van off for a service and an MOT, the rest of the day is mine, and on Thursday I'm off to Lanzarote. Normal service will be resumed in about ten days when I hope to have photos of days-old kittens and their mother.

5 BABY BUNNIES, 1 KITTEN, AND AN ENCOUNTER WITH A SICK RAT

Rabbit photos courtesy of Andrea Parkin. Top: group. Bottom: Basil the Baby Bunny.

So I was due to take Poppy (previously named Lulu the loose kitten) to the vets because her diarrhea isn't getting any better and then discovered I had to take Andrea and the five baby bunnies we've been looking after prior to re-homing.

My hands on experience with rabbits is quite limited so I was surprised just how friendly and inquisitive these little bunnies were in that they came to the front of the cage as I approached and happily sniffied my fingers. All of them were very happy, one at a time of course, to be picked up, held against my chest and stroked. Each one of them snuggled in comfortably and I found it almost as relaxing an experience as stroking a cat.

We were all seeing Honour, whom I've mentioned in several previous posts, at Vets4Pets. Not unusually, we were late going in but I never mind that because I get the opportunity to meet animals and talk to their owners about Animal Krackers. Anyway, Poppy, despite having physically grown a  little has actually lost weight since she was seen two weeks ago. Honour decided to try her on micro doses of steroids combined with this brown gunge which is supposed to line the stomach. If this doesn't work, then we have to decide whether to go ahead with expensive tests which could cost up to £800. The alternative is to put her to sleep; or, of course, let her die a lingering death and that is something no-one wants.

The bunnies were there to be sexed and checked out. Never seen a bunny sexed before and even a vet as experienced as Honour had to check them all twice before deciding which were which. She also pronounced them to be in hopping good health.

One the way out we saw Gillian of Feline Friends whom we've known for a number of years but my attentionwas drawn to a rat in a small plastic carrier with the top open. The rat's owner, a young woman called Kate Young, runs a rat rescue at Washington.

Here's her website: www.freewebs.com/herkulezratz

Her poor little rat had a very swollen eye which she reckoned would probably have to be removed.

That's it.