pet connection

Velocity (a/k/a Velocity The Rabbit, VTRII, with a nod to Elaine, who had the original VTR for more than a decade) was handed to me in a Petsmart parking lot after Christmas a couple years ago. He joined a bun family that included Turbo and Annie, both adopted as adult bunnies from the Sacramento SPCA.

Turbo and Annie died within a few weeks of each other. His death was of natural causes, and hers seemed to be from grief. Bunnies are social, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to adopt another to keep VTR company or just figure VTR would have to muddle through on his own bunny self with just me and the predators (canine and feline) for company.

Velocity had another idea. One day while I was carrying him from his indoor space to the outdoor bunny play yard I’d set up for the threesome, he kicked clear of me, hit the ground running as only a rabbit can and sprinted onto the acreage behind the house. Even the dogs couldn’t keep up, and I didn’t even try. Instead, I figured I’d get him back with broccoli and dandelion greens.

No way.

VTR decided he liked life on the lam, and set up a pretty nice routine on our quiet country-like lane, going from the small acreage behind me to Judy’s across the street to the garden area in my own yard, where I put fresh greens, grass hay and water out so at the very least he’d be well-fed. I made a lot of half-hearted and a few fully engaged efforts to catch him, but (and I’m embarrassed to admit this) he’d outwit or outsprint me at every turn.

When the fence for Clara’s Secret Garden accidentally appeared, I thought, “Ah-ha! VTR will live here, too.” The place was perfect for him, and I quickly figured out a way to open a little entry into the garage adjacent, where I set up a good-sized indoor space for him, too. Once the overhead fencing was in place, I figured, he and Clara could share the space, with little worries on my part that predators would get them or other horrid fates befall them.

Velocity didn’t much like the plan. I lured him into his new home and closed the gate, but after months of living happily on the lam, my feral rabbit wanted out.

He got his chance a week or so ago when the storm blew open the gate I hadn’t fully secured. Neighbor Judy called me at work with the news.

“Your bunny is eating my ornamental cabbage,” she said. As an animal lover she was way more amused than unhappy — and concerned for his well-being at large, of course.

VTR had quickly resumed his old rounds, spending his nights in my garden, his days under the fir trees across the street and a certain amount of bun-fun time on the acreage behind me. But this time, I was more determined to catch him.

I baited a cat-sized live trap with his favorite foods, only to find these last three nights that he’d triggered the trap and then pulled the greens out through the wire mesh.

This is no dumb bunny, let me tell you.

But then this morning, when I was taking dandelion greens out to the garden for him, I noticed he was in a corner where he couldn’t slip under the fence. I slowly moved into position and backed him up, my one and only chance at grabbing him successful as he realized his mistake and tried to sprint by me.

Busted, my bunny friend.

Velocity is now behind the newly locked gate of Clara’s Secret Garden, with fresh grass hay, dandelion greens and half an apple sliced up to console him.

I know he’s planning his escape, but for now, victory is mine.