When I got Oscar, my very first rabbit, I expected to be able to hold and cuddle her (yes, her!) on a daily basis. To me, that was her primary purpose. I was horrified to discover that she not only disagreed, she’d kick and scratch her way out of my loving embrace if need be. My arms were striped with the bright red welts that sharp little rabbit toenails leave behind.
The breeder who sold her to me advised me to keep forcing her to be held multiple times a day, which I did, and eventually she relented. But I hated forcing her. Though she never complained after that, I always had in the back of my mind that it wasn’t something she would have chosen — it was a job she had to do.
