---This is Max. Sullen, quirky, shy Max. As a wee'un, he used to be Adventure Bun (got into everything, always first to check out the scene), but at the ripe old age of nearly 2, he's cynical and wary. Maxie is one of those buns that always assumes the worst.
Several months after we brought Max and his sister Cecilia home, we briefly fostered a third rabbit named Deacon. Deacon was 9 solid pounds of Flemish Giant rabbit flesh. Max, just over 1 pound, wanted to make certain that Deacon would not steal his sister/ girlfriend, so the intrepid little bun apparently scaled the big bun's exercize enclosure and lept on him. On a Sunday night. With the nearest 24-hour vet that treats rabbits 40 miles away. Deacon would obviously have none of it. In the fight, Max dislocated a toe. He also needed sutures and a few X-rays. Deacon was fine. It was a long night, especially for Max. I still carry guilt over the whole event. Deacon had been in our house for a week, tucked inside his cage and enclosure; there had been no bun-on-bun incidents. Maxie and Cecilia were curious but not freaked out. I think I was in the bathroom when the whole mess went down. So it goes.
Deacon went back to the shelter the next day. Lesson learned: We're a two-bun household. Maxie has never been quite the same since. He's happiest when his sister is licking his ears. He turns the occasional, incredibly fabulous binky. Bits of apple and carrot really make his day. But a ray of sunshine he ain't.