The Little London Rabbitry

I have been loving rabbits lately.

Those of you who know that I'm not a pet person will be surprised. But take a look at this:

They huddle in a pile. A pile of tiny ears and twitchy noses.

I got to take pictures and handle some of the most amazing little kits (rabbit babies) and they have stolen a bit of my heart that's been locked away ever since I had to give up my beloved Persian cat back in high school.

That redhead is my favorite

My friend, Louise, breeds these rabbits. I was a little leery at first but petting just one had me won over on tactile indulgence. But what about feeding the creature? What about the shedding? And, most significantly... what about the poop? I swore up and down that after four children I was done with poop.

According to Louise, whose Little London Rabbitry is fairly teeming with these wee kits, the mini Rex only needs about 1/2 cup of food every day, shedding is minimal when the creature isn't molting, and the poop, known as "bunny berries" (which never fails to entertain my inner 6th grader) is surprisingly easy to manage. It's also good for the garden.

Besides, how can you not at least twitch a smile for something so fierce as this:

He looks like he's stalking, but he's really just
a bit unsteady on his feet.
You can see his eye barely starting to open for the first time.

She's added some serious puffballs to her menagerie as well. This one is a Jersey Wooly:

This grey female is young enough that she's just a haystack:

I hear they have eyes, but all I could see was a twinkle.
Also, where are her feet?

And this one looks like a proper gentleman, monocle, mustache, and all:

Like a sir. I just want to put him in a little top hat.

Handling, grooming, and photographing them has been so fun. The Rex's, with the short hair, are bright, curious little guys who were far more interested in exploring the garage than in their photo ops. The babies are little jumping beans that simply won't hold still for anything. But there's something oddly soothing about holding a baby in the palm of your hand, no matter how wiggly:

And their fur makes me melt.  Fleece pajama pants have nothing on how velvety soft these guys are.

Also, she has guinea pigs. I still don't care for those ones much. But I make sure to bring a withered carrot with me to toss in their cage when I visit.