Sadie’s Story
In November 2008, I adopted Mercedes, “Sadie,” from the House Rabbit Network. She bonded very well with my Lionlop, Decklin, and found her niche in no time.
About six months after I adopted her, I noticed her head tilting to the right side and she was unable to move. I was so worried. She and Decklin are two of the most well-fed, well-groomed rabbits I know. Attention is paid to them non-stop. How could this have happened? What could this be?
I took her to Angell Memorial Animal Hospital in Jamaica Plain immediately. She was admitted for a severe ear infection and was under nursing care for an entire week. The exotics doctor told me that it was one of the most severe cases they had ever seen, despite the fact that it had come out of nowhere without any obvious symptoms. They tested her for Encephalitozoon cuniculi (E. cuniculi) as well; results came back only moderately positive. The neurologist told me that if we didn’t see improvements within a week and a half, I might want to consider her quality of life and put her down. I was heartbroken. The thought of having to put my baby Sadie, as I often call her, down upset me to no end. And what would Decklin do without his girlfriend? He is such a companion-loving bun.
After one week in the hospital, the doctors felt there was no more they could do. It was a waiting game from there on. I took her home and continued her antibiotics, syringe feeding and eye drops three times a day on my own, while simultaneously caring for Decklin. It was beyond disheartening to see her unable to walk due to muscle atrophy from lying down constantly because of the severe vertigo caused by her ear infection, and unable to eat or use her litterbox on her own. Yet Sadie had fight in her. When I got her home, I was nervous that I would see little to no progress, but I was determined to nurse her back to health. My Sadie would never call it quits. Not even when she was physically a vegetable.
On her first night back, with her cage sitting at the end of my bed, I woke up with every movement she made, peeking over to make sure she was comfortable and getting up to readjust her or give her water or eye drops if I felt she wanted them. By the next afternoon, she was showing signs of annoyance with being so sick. She started to stand, determined to get back to her old self. With the syringe of antibiotics in my hand, I sat back in awe. On her wobbly legs, she stood for a moment before rolling back onto her right side. I was shocked. It wasn’t easy for her, but it was a sure sign that she was trying. Perhaps there was hope after all.
Every time she tried to stand or walk, wobbling to a different side of the cage, I let her and placed my hands on either side to break her fall. Curious to see if she would make any other advances toward recovery, I skinned some red grapes, cut them into small pieces and placed them in a petri dish in her cage. She ate them! I knew her sweet tooth would overcome her recent inability to feed herself. I gave her some parsley and she finished that too. She was not giving up. If she could have said something to me, it probably would have been along the lines of, “It’s not big, I got this.”
I noticed that her right eye, which had been inflamed due to lying on her right side, began opening ever so slightly with each day. I had been giving her eye drops and eye ointment constantly and resting her head on a travel neck brace to keep her eye from rubbing on any cloth in her cage. It helped immensely.
Four days after I brought her home, Sadie stood up more solidly and walked right out of her cage, scurried under my bed to the other side of the room, walked back into her cage with ease and ate some slices of apple and grapes (I figured a bun who had been so sick deserved sweet treats along with her syringe formula). I was ecstatic! Not only was she walking, but her head tilt was maybe only ten degrees in severity today. She walked and lay down with ease, able to rest her head upright without her right eye being on the floor. Her right eye was almost completely open and she was blinking. I called Angell’s exotic doctor immediately.
At first, the doctor didn’t believe me. She was sure Sadie was going to have to be put down within a week. She was joyous on the other end of the phone, telling the nurses the great news (many Angell staff members had assisted in Sadie’s nursing). She was glad to hear that Sadie had made such a tremendous improvement in only four days: walking strongly, eating bits and pieces on her own, cleaning herself, grooming her paws, even her little queeny attitude was resurfacing. Miss Independent was back!
The doctor told me that it’s possible that her moderately positive E. cuniculi might never present as symptoms since she’s recovering so successfully from the ear infection. Like many other rabbits, she may actually be asymptomatic for E. cuniculi and only affected by the ear infection. I was told that she is probably going to continue to lead a very fulfilled and happy life, possibly without a residual or significant head tilt.
I’m sharing this story with you because I truly feel that Sadie’s story is a miraculous one. Though I was told that her debilitating ear infection had no light at the end of the tunnel, Sadie and I were persistent and confident that it was just a bump in the road. I was nervous but not willing to give up. Every bun deserves every chance it can get; after seven nights at Angell Memorial, an $830 vet bill (and still counting, with additional antibiotics to be taken for another month), and returning home for four nights with 24/7 care (I even did all my studying sitting on my bed, so that I could be at Sadie’s beck and call), Sadie is on the road to a great recovery.
I am so grateful that I adopted Sadie. Not only was I able to give her the medical care she needed, but I also believed in her enough to help her get well again. Everything truly does work out for a reason.
Sadie and I have grown closer through this entire experience (much to her attention-seeking, adorable little boyfriend Decklin’s chagrin). She lets me hold her like a baby while feeding her, lets me pet her (something she hardly ever did before), and lets me pick her up with less of a fight. Although I’m sure her little queeny, independent, “mama” self will be back to its nearly full extent, there will always be a vulnerable little soft spot within her now. She is a blessing and a miraculous, amazing, beautiful, happy rabbit.
by Mary Kate Costello