How much do rabbits cost?

Rabbits cost so little. Rabbits are an easy pet. Let’s get the kids a rabbit for Easter.

Sound familiar?

Last call to get the message out there: please, please, please do not buy a rabbit as an Easter gift. They are not an “easy”, “cheap” or “starter” pet.

How much do rabbits cost?

When Ned came into our lives, we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. He cost £25, and we probably spent around £100 on supplies (cage, carriers, food, etc.). Considering that was to share with his brother, seems pretty cheap, right?



Let me tell you the full cost of Ned.

At his first vet visit (free at our vets as it was his baby check up), they noticed that his lungs were crackly. Antibiotics for seven days and come back in a week for another appointment. (£30 and £24.)

This continued for three weeks (£30 and £24 each time). We applied for insurance for him, and this was now a preexisting condition. So he’s not covered for this. But better get the insurance anyway, right? (£10/month.)

Oh, better get him vaccinated, too. (£80.)

He and his brother fight and we can’t have Ned neutered as he’s too ill. They won’t bond while one is still intact. We separate them, so now two rooms in our house are dedicated to rabbits. They’re both lonely, so we get them soft toys and spend all our time with them. We’ve not been on holiday since 2015.

Ned continues to decline. He has a runny nose, breathes through his mouth and his eyes weep with pus constantly. We try more and more medication, not always authorised for rabbits. (£Is anyone adding this up any more? Some of them were pricey.) We have pretty much weekly vet visits for eight months. (£24 each time, plus the cost of whatever antibiotic or anti-inflammatory he’s on this time.)

Our vet refers us to a specialist. 50 miles away. (£Petrol.) He sedates Ned for x rays and tear duct flushing. (£400.) More medication. Zithromax finally works on him. (£Adding this up is soul destroying.) We do this twice. (£Double it.) We start to see improvement! Yes!

Then Ned hits his head and gets an abscess. (£24 vet visit, £pricey antibiotics as he’s now developed a resistance to most of the most common ones for bunnies.)

He’s finally well enough that he’s hit puberty. Ruins a carpet. (£300.) After a couple more specialist consultations (£30 x 2), we feel confident enough to get him neutered, and the vet does his tear ducts again while he’s under. (£300.)

It’s been a year since his last vaccinations. Oh, and now there are two lots, one for the new and even more terrifying hemorrhaging disease! (£80 and £80, double it if you have two rabbits.)

Is anyone adding this up? I tried to once. It wasn’t pretty.

We could have stopped at any point. We could have taken him off the medication and stopped taking him to the vet and watched him slowly choke to death, because that’s what would have happened. Or we could have paid a reluctant vet to put him down.

But then we wouldn’t have Ned in our lives now. Our beautiful Ned, who plays with our toddler so happily, who binkies so high sometimes you think he’s going to take off, who sneaks into the airing cupboard any time our backs are turned, who loves nothing more than to climb up our backs and sit triumphantly on us. And that’s why I don’t add up the cost, because I’d have paid twice what I have just to have him in my life.

He’s still got extra needs – his very flat face means he has malformed tear ducts, which leak regularly. He needs his face washing by humans sometimes, and by Barbara Rabbit every single day. He is now resistant to several kinds of antibiotics.

And if you’re thinking, “Well, I’d just get a healthy rabbit. This is really rare”, then think again. We thought Ned was healthy. The super cute, flat faced mini lops are really prone to these issues. And even our “healthy” bunny Gingee racked up a few hundred pounds’ worth of vet bills in the weeks before he died, apart from his usual preventative care.

Rabbits are really not a cheap or easy pet. We think they’re worth it. 

#MakeMineChocolate: Don’t buy Easter bunnies!

Dear humans,

My name is Barbara Rabbit. As it’s Easter week and so many people across the country want to buy rabbits right now, I want to tell you about my life, so you can make an informed decision.

Where I live now, I’m very happy. But that wasn’t always the case.

In my first home, I was neglected.

I don’t think my first humans were bad people, but I don’t think they knew what I needed.

They didn’t know that I needed my claws cutting regularly, so I had to walk on my heels and had open sores on my hocks.

They didn’t know that I needed to be spayed early in life, so I had cysts in my uterus and was in constant pain.

They didn’t know that I needed regular dental check ups, so my teeth grew badly and made eating painful.

They didn’t know that I needed a friend, so I was lonely and afraid.

They didn’t know the right food to feed me, so my bones grew weak.

They didn’t know that I didn’t want to live outside, because the noises and smells scared me too much.

They didn’t know that I was only aggressive because I was unhappy and in pain and scared.

They didn’t know that if they spent more time with me, they could notice my problems and I could become their best friend.

Thankfully, they did know that one day they couldn’t care for me, and they gave me up. It took Support Adoption For Pets nearly six months to nurse me back to health. It took a further three months for my family to find me, and I moved into my forever home on 12th December 2016.

It took me a long time to trust my new humans. But they kept on coming back, respectfully keeping their distance and giving me everything I need. Now, after more than two years, sometimes I go to them for fuss.

I don’t know how long I lived in my first home. Vets estimate I am somewhere between six and ten years old. The effects of my early life have led me to be very easily scared – more than most rabbits. I panic when the window is opened. The neglect I suffered means that I have some health issues. I have arthritis and walk with a limp. I sometimes need my teeth filing down under anaesthetic. I cost my humans a lot in vet bills.

I am happy now.

I have a bedroom and so much hay and a Ned Bunny and lots of soft toys and I don’t have to feel so anxious.

Can you provide lots of space, proactive and reactive vet care, a bunny friend, good nutrition, and patience, love and care for anywhere up to twelve years?

Can you cope if your bunny doesn’t want to be cuddled or even stroked, and still stand by and love her and spend time with her and help her when she needs it?

Can you take over if the child you’re getting the bunny for gets tired of her?

If you can’t, then you don’t want a living, breathing cousin of mine. You want a toy, or perhaps a chocolate bunny. And that’s okay! They are cheaper and cleaner and have many advantages over us live rabbits. #MakeMineChocolate

Please think about what you’re doing.

With love, 
Barbara Rabbit