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Arts & Entertainment

Off-Ramp producer's 'hare-raising' Superbowl Sunday

Kevin Ferguson

Internet, meet Arthur. Arthur, meet the Internet. Arthur is my rabbit—my wife and I found him in our yard last July. He's healthy, friendly and playful. But Sunday night he was the face of terror and panic.

Like he does most every night, Arthur was running up around the house—scaring the cats and eating hay out of his cage. Then, somewhere in between the Superdome getting its lights back on and the 49ers hitting their game day apex, Arthur sat on my laptop bag. He was there just long enough for me to notice that this little white rabbit was bleeding. A lot. Gushing blood, really.

We freaked out. It looked like the blood was coming from his hind paw, but the bleeding didn't stop. Quickly we got him on the counter and I started running through options: Yes, Arthur has a vet—I thought—But it's superbowl Sunday. Nobody's going to be there. Do we take him to one of those 24 hour emergency places? Do they even look at rabbits? Is he panicking? How can you TELL if a rabbit's panicking?

And he was still bleeding bad. How bad? I took a picture. But be warned: it's pretty gruesome. 

For lack of any better idea, I called Arthur's vet—the Exotic Animal Care Center in Pasadena. It went to voicemail, of course. I was hoping to they'd be able to refer us to a rabbit-friendly emergency room. But at the end of the greeting—to my surprise and delight—the voice announced an after hours phone number.

An after hours phone number! Within minutes I was talking with Kim, a calm and friendly expert who was on call that night and had the vet on speed dial. It turned out Arthur's injury looked worse than it actually was. Somehow—probably getting his paw stuck between a couple loose floorboards—our beloved rabbit managed to break off a nail. She assured me this has happened to her rabbits before, and even though it looked hellish, there was no need to take him in to an expensive emergency vet.

After a little corn starch and about 10 minutes of pressure on his paw, the bleeding had stopped. Arthur went to rest in his cage and with another 20 minutes he was eating kale and playing with an empty toilet paper roll.

So Arthur's alright. And I can't thank his vet enough for providing the service. But especially Kim, who I really hope isn't a football fan. If you're reading this: Thank you, Kim, for letting us ruin your Sunday night.