I recently adopted a rabbit. Olaf had been passed from shelter to shelter for more than a year. He has holes in his ears and eyelids from a severe mite infestation he endured while struggling to survive alone on the streets of Northern Virginia. Fortunately, a good Samaritan scooped him up and took him to the local animal shelter.
I imagine Olaf ended up homeless the same way so many other rabbits do: Someone gave him to a child for Easter without having thought about the commitment involved. And then the reality of caring for a rabbit set in. Olaf despises being picked up—which is more common than not in rabbits—so I’m sure the child got frustrated with him. Eventually, someone abandoned him outdoors, perhaps wrongly believing that he could survive, but being left alone outside is actually a cruel death sentence for a domestic rabbit.
It happens all the time. About a month after the holiday, shelters start bracing for an influx of unwanted rabbits. Many of them are found in parks or backyards or under buildings. They’re often starving, sick, injured from attacks by predators, ravaged by parasites and scared stiff.
