After finishing my morning blogging, I went to the bedroom to snatch up some socks. The distinct scurrying of little feet on the other side of the room caught my attention.
I saw a gray blur slip underneath my wife’s dresser.
Shoot, I thought, we probably have a rat or a squirrel in the house; not a far-fetched thought for our country home. The squirrels have parties in the attic all of the time.
I slowly walked over when a little nose popped out and I recognized two long, familiar ears: it was just Evan, our gray rabbit. In awe of his ability to escape his cage, I peeked in the rabbit room (also my office) and found that I left the top of his cage open when I gave him lettuce this morning.
There is nothing more frustrating than trying to get a rabbit out of a bedroom. They hide in the darkest, hard-to-reach corners under the bed and then cannot be moved.
Since I was already on the later side of arriving at work, I needed something that would work quickly. Rabbit trauma could not be a concern. After barricading off the hallway, leaving only the rabbit room as an option, I looked for a long, broom-like object.
I found our swifter and set to work on chasing Evan from under the bed. After some minor furniture modifications, I took a swipe at him and ended up with an encouraging push that sent him scattering out of the bedroom.
With the rabbit on the run, I kept up the momentum with some yelling and brandishing of the swifter. The results were favorable. Though he didn’t hop into his cage, he did run under my desk.
Now when a rabbit is out, they typically want to go where they can’t. So I shut the door to the office/rabbit room and waited a few seconds. Sure enough, when I opened the door he was heading right for the door,Â hoping to wiggle his way out.
I pounced on Evan, pinning him to the floor with one hand long enough to scoop up his powerful back feet and settle him into his cage. He made a few grunts of protest, but soon began inhaling his lettuce as if nothing at all had happened.