Rabbits Meant Easter

Hock Trouble, High Hopes and a Palace for Four

Bunnies come to mind at Easter. They can be trained to sit in your lap, eat from your hand, and respond to a simple call.

When my children were young, I decided to build them a rabbit hutch. Being “tool challenged,” I assumed a box would be OK.

“No, no, Buddy,” chirped the gentleman at the feed store. “The hutch, ya know the box, has ta be on stilts so raccoons don’t get ‘em. And ya need a wire cage attached that opens inta it . . .. where the poop and pee can drop down, ya know. Rabbit poop is good fer the garden, ya know. And ya need a door.”

“Ok, OK. Where are the cages?”

“And don’t ferget, make it easy fer the bunnies to get into the hutch. If they stand on the wire all day, they git hock trouble. They kin die from it.”

“Hock trouble?” Oh boy.

I soon learned that sore hocks or ulcerative pododermatitis, is a painful infection on the underside of a rabbit’s hind feet. It’s caused by prolonged pressure on the wire flooring, especially if the bedding is soiled.

To avoid it, the cage needs regular cleaning.

So, the cage needs to be cleaned often.

Spending too much time in confined spaces leads to sustained pressure on the same spot on the foot.

So, the rabbits need time out of the cage.

Overgrown nails alter the way a rabbit stands, forcing them to sit back on their hocks rather than on their toes.

So, their nails need to be trimmed.

I was in deep. Hock trouble, comfortable box, spaces to pee and poop, plumbing, manicures. Stilts? It had better be worth it.

When I was a kid, my grandfather built a hutch for my rabbit. After school, I’d feed Peter (of course), hold him and let him roam. He recognized me the moment I rounded the corner, and he thumped the floor of his den. He was a loyal friend.

Grandpa Troiano on Sunday

I struggled but finally, Up went our hutch, A backyard palace bordering the woods.

We bought four rabbits, one for each kid.

“Kids, they’re your responsibility and you need to take care of them. There won’t be much to do except piling the poops for the garden, exercising them and trimming their nails.” Hmmm, not much response.

The rabbits weren’t that cooperative. When taken out of the cage, they bolted. And they did not return to a simple call.

And they peed and pooped in the hutch, their home. They treated their sleeping quarters as a latrine.

It became a mess. When they were out of the cage, I had to use a power hose to wash out the hutch and the cage.

“Did you feed the rabbits? Have you cleaned the cage and the hutch?”

Their responsibility ended at cuddling. “Homework, Dad. I gotta meet my friends, Dad. Baseball practice, Dad.”

The rabbits soon after became the property of a friendly farmer who took the rabbits and the palace.

I made a clean break from the rabbit business(es).

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