katt
Well-Known Member
I got a few comments, and a fewemails about a post made in my blog, peg just mentioned it in her post about leaving the breeding world. i thought i would share it. i feel that it is emotionally helpfull for those that wish to breed to hear about. . .
"Memories of Breeding
I sit here tonight, drugged up on night-quill as I am sicker then 2 dogs right now, and thinking about my rabbits. Not just my fluffy buns that are spoiled in the house today, but also the buns from my breeding days. They are a constant reminder to me of my past, and what has built my character. Every time I walk out to my car during the winter with snow blowing in my face like a bitter-cold punch, every time I bundle myself up, scrap my car off, and fight with the mountains of snow on the ground I am drawn instantly back to my weekends growing up, cleaning the rabbit barn, hours, apron hours hauling wheel-borrows of rabbit poo, of cleaning, breeding, feeding, watering. I missed many parties, lost many friends, and was considered an âoutcasteâ many times because of the bunnies, but I was okay with it.
Recently I have seen troubling things when it comes to rabbits. Bad breeding and management choices, people trying to be wiser then they are. I have seen adults drawn to the level of name calling because out of the frustration of attempts of helping they are left with nothing else they can try to do to get the attention of a bunny-person in hopes that maybe they will rethink their unwise ways.
This makes me wonder just how well of a rabbit-breeder I was. Did I do enough? Did I give them enough? Did I take to much on? is that why I sold out? Was I to compassionate? Or was I to harsh?
It is amazing how much a single person, well a single rabbitry can make me consider all these things.
Breeding taught me many, many things about life and about myself. I dealt with my fair share of rude breeders, nasty lines, and disappointing shows. I made mistakes, and know I did, but I never once made a risk so great that it could have caused the life of one of my girls.
The scary thing about breeding rabbits, well, any animal for that matter, it that it gives a human the chance to âplay godâ. In their own little enclosure, a breeder chooses who stays and who goes, what rabbits are breed, what rabbits are pets. Often times a breeder chooses life or death of a rabbit. They are the feeder, groomer, caretaker, show handler, and vet. All in one. No training necessary. They just pick up some rabbits and a couple of cages and go for it. If they want to breed rabbit âaâ with rabbit âbâ even though they know they shouldnât who cares they are the almighty ârabbit breederâ.
I was reminded all this today by a topic I read, a scary topic that almost brought me to tears. I never thought I would see the day where an RO member truly treated their rabbit like âjust a rabbitâ. And they did. Part of me is shammed, not for myself, and not for RO, but for the fact that there are people so ignorant to the happenings of life that they can do something so utterly careless.
I try to keep my nose out of the breeder/rabbitry part of RO, just because talking about breeding still hurts. It honestly hurts. I loved the rabbits I produced and owned; I loved every single one of them. But I would give up those years of breeding and showing just to have trixie back, or more importantly to not have her death be looming over my head. Because I was careless enough to breeder her over and over again, to give up those years longer I could have had with her. You want to talk about guilt? About shame? I took years of my best friend simply to produce some show quality babies. Did I over breeder her? No. but I still put her at risk, and chipped away years of her life ever time I took her to a bucks cage.
The rabbits were sold; my ribbons are in a box, my standard tucked away. The cages sold, barn gone. What caused me to stop? Why did I give up a passion? Because one day I was looking at a litter of babies, but I didnât see rabbits, I saw ear numbers. Because one day I choose to end a rabbits life, not because it was already dieing, but because its past was so carelessly bred it was vicious and unhandleable. Because I couldnât stand to stay up in the long night hours with a baby rabbit that was failing to live. I couldnât handle those hours of death thrashes, the final gasp of air, the pain you can see in their eyes. I couldnât take the numerous unwanted rabbits that were dumped on me at my door, at the shows. The sight of breeders caring so little for their stock. Rabbits underfed, in dirty conditions, so bored they pulled on their wire cages till their teeth were out of alignment. I got out of the rabbitry world because I saw too much of the worst of it. There are good, no great, people in the breeding world. But seeing 1 bad breeder can ruin me for every 100 good I see.
My rabbits today are who they are because I bred. I spoil my rabbits because of the times I walked into rabbitries and saw nothing in the cage but food and water. I spoil my rabbits because of rabbit after rabbit I would attempt to socialize that came from breeder who besides sexing, breeding, showing and tattooing, didnât handle their rabbits.
So why am I saying all this, ranting on and on about rabbits? Because I was reminded tonight that it was past time I remembered all those hard memories of breeding. Because I read about a breeder that I have no respect for, and I had to relive my memories of breeding to remind myself that I wasnât that person. That I didnât put my rabbits through that kind of h*ll.
I just had to remember"
and just as a fallow up, or further thought, this was a post i made after
". . .i just sat there reading a bad post (i won't say which one) and i just couldn't contain myself.
i wrote it all out, and looked at it for about 10 minutes debating on posting it.
in the end, i am happy i did. hopefully others will read it and get a better understanding of how choices with their rabbits can affect their lives.
if i would have known what i know now, back then when i breed trixie, i would have never done it. not once. if i would have known back then how hard it was to sit with her those hours while she died, i never would have considered it.
you don't know what the bottom feels like, untill you have your best friend laying in your arms slowly dying while you just sit there singing phil collin's "you'll be in my heart" over and over again because that was her favorite song. hours of singing, and all you want to do is scream "i am so sorry"
regret is a bitter 6-letter word
trixie died 2 1/2 years ago. she was 4 1/2 when she died, far to young in my mind
let this be my anti-breeding warning. . ."
katie
"Memories of Breeding
I sit here tonight, drugged up on night-quill as I am sicker then 2 dogs right now, and thinking about my rabbits. Not just my fluffy buns that are spoiled in the house today, but also the buns from my breeding days. They are a constant reminder to me of my past, and what has built my character. Every time I walk out to my car during the winter with snow blowing in my face like a bitter-cold punch, every time I bundle myself up, scrap my car off, and fight with the mountains of snow on the ground I am drawn instantly back to my weekends growing up, cleaning the rabbit barn, hours, apron hours hauling wheel-borrows of rabbit poo, of cleaning, breeding, feeding, watering. I missed many parties, lost many friends, and was considered an âoutcasteâ many times because of the bunnies, but I was okay with it.
Recently I have seen troubling things when it comes to rabbits. Bad breeding and management choices, people trying to be wiser then they are. I have seen adults drawn to the level of name calling because out of the frustration of attempts of helping they are left with nothing else they can try to do to get the attention of a bunny-person in hopes that maybe they will rethink their unwise ways.
This makes me wonder just how well of a rabbit-breeder I was. Did I do enough? Did I give them enough? Did I take to much on? is that why I sold out? Was I to compassionate? Or was I to harsh?
It is amazing how much a single person, well a single rabbitry can make me consider all these things.
Breeding taught me many, many things about life and about myself. I dealt with my fair share of rude breeders, nasty lines, and disappointing shows. I made mistakes, and know I did, but I never once made a risk so great that it could have caused the life of one of my girls.
The scary thing about breeding rabbits, well, any animal for that matter, it that it gives a human the chance to âplay godâ. In their own little enclosure, a breeder chooses who stays and who goes, what rabbits are breed, what rabbits are pets. Often times a breeder chooses life or death of a rabbit. They are the feeder, groomer, caretaker, show handler, and vet. All in one. No training necessary. They just pick up some rabbits and a couple of cages and go for it. If they want to breed rabbit âaâ with rabbit âbâ even though they know they shouldnât who cares they are the almighty ârabbit breederâ.
I was reminded all this today by a topic I read, a scary topic that almost brought me to tears. I never thought I would see the day where an RO member truly treated their rabbit like âjust a rabbitâ. And they did. Part of me is shammed, not for myself, and not for RO, but for the fact that there are people so ignorant to the happenings of life that they can do something so utterly careless.
I try to keep my nose out of the breeder/rabbitry part of RO, just because talking about breeding still hurts. It honestly hurts. I loved the rabbits I produced and owned; I loved every single one of them. But I would give up those years of breeding and showing just to have trixie back, or more importantly to not have her death be looming over my head. Because I was careless enough to breeder her over and over again, to give up those years longer I could have had with her. You want to talk about guilt? About shame? I took years of my best friend simply to produce some show quality babies. Did I over breeder her? No. but I still put her at risk, and chipped away years of her life ever time I took her to a bucks cage.
The rabbits were sold; my ribbons are in a box, my standard tucked away. The cages sold, barn gone. What caused me to stop? Why did I give up a passion? Because one day I was looking at a litter of babies, but I didnât see rabbits, I saw ear numbers. Because one day I choose to end a rabbits life, not because it was already dieing, but because its past was so carelessly bred it was vicious and unhandleable. Because I couldnât stand to stay up in the long night hours with a baby rabbit that was failing to live. I couldnât handle those hours of death thrashes, the final gasp of air, the pain you can see in their eyes. I couldnât take the numerous unwanted rabbits that were dumped on me at my door, at the shows. The sight of breeders caring so little for their stock. Rabbits underfed, in dirty conditions, so bored they pulled on their wire cages till their teeth were out of alignment. I got out of the rabbitry world because I saw too much of the worst of it. There are good, no great, people in the breeding world. But seeing 1 bad breeder can ruin me for every 100 good I see.
My rabbits today are who they are because I bred. I spoil my rabbits because of the times I walked into rabbitries and saw nothing in the cage but food and water. I spoil my rabbits because of rabbit after rabbit I would attempt to socialize that came from breeder who besides sexing, breeding, showing and tattooing, didnât handle their rabbits.
So why am I saying all this, ranting on and on about rabbits? Because I was reminded tonight that it was past time I remembered all those hard memories of breeding. Because I read about a breeder that I have no respect for, and I had to relive my memories of breeding to remind myself that I wasnât that person. That I didnât put my rabbits through that kind of h*ll.
I just had to remember"
and just as a fallow up, or further thought, this was a post i made after
". . .i just sat there reading a bad post (i won't say which one) and i just couldn't contain myself.
i wrote it all out, and looked at it for about 10 minutes debating on posting it.
in the end, i am happy i did. hopefully others will read it and get a better understanding of how choices with their rabbits can affect their lives.
if i would have known what i know now, back then when i breed trixie, i would have never done it. not once. if i would have known back then how hard it was to sit with her those hours while she died, i never would have considered it.
you don't know what the bottom feels like, untill you have your best friend laying in your arms slowly dying while you just sit there singing phil collin's "you'll be in my heart" over and over again because that was her favorite song. hours of singing, and all you want to do is scream "i am so sorry"
regret is a bitter 6-letter word
trixie died 2 1/2 years ago. she was 4 1/2 when she died, far to young in my mind
let this be my anti-breeding warning. . ."
katie
