I wasnt feeding them near enough and was mixing my formula wrong. One part water to two parts formula she said, for the extra nutrients, every 2 1/2 - 3 hours for newborns, up until they started eating solids and filling up on something other then formula.
More Benebac then what I had given, 1/4 teaspoon each bunny each day she said. She told me that they can still get the diarrhea up to several weeks past starting solids, which mine did a little over 2 weeks after.
She encouraged me to keep learning and not to give up like I was feeling I should do. The days went on, my sorrow was put aside as I enjoyed the babies I had left to cherish.
By this time, most were hard to tell apart, I didnt know who I had lost because several looked the same. I knew I had lost one of my walnuts, noticing after several days of feeding the others, that the one I lost was the little guy who sucked his formula all out with one quick suck, because there was no bunny left that did that anymore. I had 6 bunnies left, including Buddy Bear.
Every day I would let the 5 loose in the hallway, pick them weeds, sit with them while the friendlier ones would hop on my lap or my back and chew at my hair, watch them for hours.
One of the bunnies was a particularly big fella, I called him Big Boy. He was strikingly handsome with a prominent white blaze on his forehead.
Two bunnies by this time had battle wounds from the fighting(which they continued to do the whole time), one missing a small piece out of her lower ear, and the bully that followed Buddy Bear and took over his cage, had a small knick in one of his ears. This is how I was able to identify seeing them over a month later once I set them free.
One baby was so beautiful, he had the puffy little cheeks like bugs bunny, I adored him. I would lay a sheet on the floor in the hallway at that time, to catch most of their messes, and pick it up and wash it every night. This turned out to be a fatal mistake. Some of the babies would crawl under the sheet to hide, so everyone knew to be careful where you stepping at all times, to look for the babies, look for lumps before you stepped.
The babies were 6 weeks old, one week from being free I decided. They were getting so hard to contain, Big Boy jumping the gate with a single bound, jumping out from the enclouse under the table at night, that boy was determined to have free run like Buddy. Unfortunately, Buddy would have nothing to do with another bunny living in her house on her property,(little bunny fights when she found another bunny loose on her turf) or else I would have let Big Boy roam also. Instead Big Boy got free run of my 7 year old sons bedroom for his remaining days here.
I was to be gone most of the day that terrible day. I let the babies out to run before I left that morning, not even having the time to visit or to say hello and give kisses. I picked them weeds and left. I came home shortly after the kids got home from school.
I walked in my door to my oldest son grabbing my arms and telling me one of my babies was dead. I said that wasnt very funny, but looking him in the face, I knew he wasnt joking. My first thought was who was it?? Please dont let this be true. My son said he was laying in the towel in the dining room. I escaped his grip and ran to my baby. I knew as soon as I looked at him that it was my adorable bugs bunny face baby. He was broke, I could feel his broken body on my hand. My little son had come in the door and ran upstairs, with shouts from the older kids to be careful. But being a little guy and being in a hurry to go out and play, he didnt watch where he stepped. It was to late to hear the warnings of be careful. He had stepped on my baby hiding under the sheet. The baby came bounding out and down the steps, hitting the wall to land on the bottom. Before any of them could realize what had happened, my baby died all alone.
I was inconsolable, holding my baby in my room for hours against my face. How could I have not been there?? How could I have let that happen?? There was no one to blame but myself. My baby, who had just that morning been full of life, now lay broken in my hands. The guilt I felt for not being there for him as he took his last breath was unbearable. The guilt that he would never see the green grass under his feet. The guilt that he was only one week away from being free. The guilt that I hadnt taken but a few minutes to spend with him that morning. For days his precious face haunted my waking moments, and my sleep. He was such a beautiful bunny.
A week later we set off to release the remaining 4....................
