Panasonic, who until now hasn’t been much of a mother, did pull fur and kindle a nest today. She has one last chance to prove she can raise a litter, and we’re hoping she steps up. We did have two kits found cold at the edge of the nest box. No blood in the nails , so both were taken immediately for rewarming. First step was skin-to-skin contact—straight onto a human body. Farm moms know this drill; babies in bras save lives. This is a prefered way to rewarm becuse skin to skin contact helps stimulate the cold kits, and it’s fast when time matters. Once inside, they were wrapped and placed next to me under a heated blanket to bring temperature up gradually. One kit began squeaking early and responded well. The second was badly bruised, with blood pooled in the soft tissues (not the nails). After warming, it remained deflated and unresponsive. At that point, it was called deceased. It won’t be wasted and will be used appropriately to feed my senior dog. The surviving kit is now warm, active, and wiggly and has been returned to the nest with its siblings. From here on out, it’s on Panasonic to do her job. This is livestock reality. Quick assessment, fast intervention, and honest outcomes. I’d love to hear from other farm folks: What emergencies have you dealt with? What saved a life—or didn’t? What tricks have worked for you when things went sideways? Real stories help everyone learn.

Most rabbit info online ranges from “accidentally wrong” to “actively harmful,” and the only cure is better data. Here’s mine: I genuinely thought “structured group play on grass” would enrich everyone’s lives. What I got instead was: • an instant coccidia outbreak, • rabbits declaring blood feuds, • worm load that required whole herd treatment. So share yours: What rabbit idea seemed wholesome and “natural” until your rabbits turned it into a war crime? The more chaotic, the better.

Encephalitozoon cuniculi (EC) isn’t just a “head tilt” or “special needs” condition—it’s a systemic, zoonotic parasitic infection that permanently damages the brain, kidneys, and liver. Once neurological signs like torticollis appear, the animal is already suffering from severe lesions in the central nervous system, including granulomatous encephalitis and neuronal necrosis, as documented in Rodríguez-Tovar et al. (2016, Journal of Pathogens). These lesions don’t heal; they leave the rabbit with lasting neurological deficits, chronic renal inflammation, and a compromised immune system. Even if the parasite load is reduced through treatment, the rabbit remains permanently damaged and continues to shed spores in urine and feces, posing a risk to other rabbits and even to immunocompromised humans. For this reason, agricultural and responsible breeding programs classify EC-positive animals showing symptoms as culls—not out of cruelty, but as an act of containment and welfare. Euthanasia prevents ongoing suffering and limits transmission within a herd, ensuring the health of the remaining stock and the ethical integrity of the breeding program. https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC4789044/pdf/JPATH2016-5768428.pdf