New Faces. . . Rabbit Stew Take Two

Back during our first years at this little place here, possibly even before we built the barn, we acquired a few rabbits.  The first was a birthday gift to DD1 from her grandparents.  A rabbit for DD2 followed a few months later for her birthday, and then the following spring, when I got a hold of a 4-place hutch off of freecycle, I bought a couple of meat does.  The idea being, we were going to raise us some rabbit stew.

Well, that was a grand idea.  What actually ended up happening was that we had baby bunnies, lots of baby bunnies, and those baby bunnies grew up.  And nobody wanted to kill them.  Well, DH wanted them killed, and I wanted them killed, but nobody wanted to be the one to actually do the deed.  You see, killing rabbits isn't exactly the same as killing chickens, which I did without qualms.  Chickens you chop their heads off in one good blow with a hatchet.  Rabbits you snap their necks, either by doing it with your own two hands, or by holding them by the hind legs and giving them a good whack on the back of the head with a pipe or other instrument.

DH didn't want to be the executioner. (Despite his deer killing prowess, he is a softie.)  I strongly doubted my ability to give a good enough whack or a sharp enough twist to get the job done humanely.  I didn't want the rabbits to suffer because of my clumsiness.

So, I gave them all away.

I should mention that by this time, it had been a couple of years since the arrival of the of the 'birthday bunnies', and that they both had met untimely ends (one terrible night we lost 2 turkeys, 18 chickens and a dozen bunnies to an attack by 'feral' dogs).  I'm not a heartless mom who would give away her daughters' pet rabbits.  The meat ones, however, were never intended to be pets, and I wasn't about to keep feeding freeloaders.

Many years went by.  It is now Spring 2013.  I'm talking to a young woman I've known since she was a first grader (she is now of legal drinking age, so I've known her quite a while. . .) who mentioned to me that her family also was too afraid to attempt snapping their rabbits' necks.  So her father puts the rabbit scheduled for the dinner table into a large bucket, and thus contained, shoots it in the head with a .22.

A light bulb when off in my head.  I could do that!!  I totally have no problem shooting things in the head with a .22! After all, that is how I dispatch chicken-killing coons and possums after I catch them at the scene of the crime.

Mental wheels turned.  Maybe I could raise rabbits again.  I could shoot them.  Quick, humane, no fumbling with necks and hurting the poor things.  Hmm.

Then one recent Saturday, I went to the local hay and straw auction hoping to pick up a few dozen bales of straw to use as mulch in my garden.  The hay and straw auction is on Saturday mornings at 10:00 and is immediately followed by a small animal auction.

Well, the straw went for more per bale than I was willing to pay (I'm cheap, hence going to the auction instead of the places that sell it for $5 a bale to the city people--my target price was under $2.50), and silly me, I wandered into the auction barn where the animal cages are kept.  The cages held chickens, ducks, guineas, a few turkeys, some doves, and--oh my!--some rabbits.

I am a sucker.  Totally a sucker.  I saw a very cute, totally too small to ever be eaten, black mini lop.  It looked just like the rabbit DD2 used to have, only with lop ears.  I thought of how she'd cried after her rabbit had been killed by the feral dogs (they had knocked the cage over and broken the clips, pushing in the side and grabbing the rabbit through the resultant hole).  I thought of how she had often through the last six or seven years mentioned that rabbit of hers.  And I thought how cute the mini lop was and how delighted she would be if I brought it home.  I also thought about the fact that we still had a couple serviceable rabbit cages stored in the barn.

I bid on the mini lop.   I won the mini lop.  Oh, I am a sucker.  (In my defense, I did only pay $4.50 for it, much less than my parents paid for pet store bunnies.)

Forgive the fuzzy cell phone pic,

 I took it at the auction to show DD2 her new bunny.

Not only did I bid on and win the mini lop, I picked out, of the meat-sized does that were in the cages, one that I liked.  She had a pretty coat, and she looked to be healthy with decent confirmation.  Not that I know much about rabbits, but I was trying to be smart.  As smart as one can be while bidding on impulse.

Meet Jane.  As in Jane Doe.  That is what I named her.  She now lives in a cage in my barn and doesn't know it yet, but will get a conjugal visit later this month from a buck belonging to the young woman who enlightened me on the bucket & .22 method of rabbit dispatch.

Rabbit stew, take two.  I won't be giving away the next batch of meat rabbits born at this little place here.  No, I will be designating a 'rabbit bucket' and putting it to use this fall.  Then I'll share some rabbit recipes.