R.I.P. Silly Pickle

My second encounter with wool block was not a good one.  Yesterday I went out to the rabbitry in the afternoon.  Pickle, my favorite senior doe, didn't come over for her treats and kisses.  She hadn't eaten or drank in the previous 12 hours.  I brought her inside right away, knowing something was very, very wrong.

Indoors, I could see her skin was nearly blue, she was unsteady, her abdomen was heavey with "doughy" hard masses.  Knowing that she would be dehydrated, I syinge-fed her warm water and called the vet.

Thankfully my rabbit vet was free, so I brought her in.  Her body temperature didn't register (below 92 degrees).  Normal temperature for a rabbit is 103 - 104 degrees!  She had lost most of her muscle mass.  She weighed 8 - 9 pounds the day before.  She was down to 5 pounds.  We got her on a heating pad, gave subcutaneous fluids, a gut motility injection.  She was starting to look better after an hour and a half and I took her home with fluids, injections and instructions to give her pedialyte every 4 hours.

She died a few minutes after we got home.  I cried.  I was in unbelief that wool block had progressed so rapidly.  I was out in the rabbitry the day before and her behavior, food, water was all normal.  In the evening she had her loose wool combed out and she was normal then.  Overnight!  We weren't even able to get her stable enough for surgery.

Pickle was such a fun rabbit.  She was one of the first French Angoras that I bought.  She was a cranky lady and I almost didn't keep her.  But with some personal attention she quickly became the favorite.  Before I moved in with my fiance (a rabbit-hater), she was my house bunny - free to come and go out of her cage as she pleased.  Pickle was the kind of rabbit that would politely take treats out of your fingers.  And if your fingers were empty, she would tast them - teeth first - just to be sure she wasn't missing something.  She'd runn over for eskimo kisses, wrestle a food bucket with her teeth, and keep a messy cage by kicking and pushing her food all over.  In spite of all her fiestiness, she was sweet.  She'd curl up like a baby in the crook or my arm as I did chores.  Even as an adult, I could put her in with any other female and she wouldn't fight.  She produced beautiful babies and was an excellent mom.  She would foster another momma's babies.  She already had a "retirement home" picked out for her when she was done "working" for me.

Not many rabbits will worm their way into my heart, but she did.  She was the first.