I can’t be the first person to travel in an RV with a rabbit, can I? Having pets while living in an RV is pretty standard – dogs, cats, birds (apparently that’s a thing, according to the girl who checked me in at the last park I stayed). I would say the serious RVers that travel with an animal probably outnumber those that don’t. But a rabbit? At very least, it’s unusual.
There are several reasons for why travling with a rabbit isn't common. First, and foremost, is that bunnies aren’t known for having nerves of steel. I’ve heard horror stories about them dying from stress, their little hearts literally exploding from terror. Many end up in humane societies (or worse, are released into the wild) because their families are moving and don’t think they’ll survive being transported so far. Another reason is that they just aren’t as common a pet as dogs and cats. The number of people I know who own dogs and cats outnumber rabbits at least two to one. Add to that the demographics of your typical full-time RVer (retired people) versus people I know who have rabbits (women in their 20s & 30s), and the chance of meeting another RVer traveling with a bunny is pretty low.
I get questioned about why I’m traveling with a rabbit more than any other question. The answer is more a pet philosophy than anything else: once you bring an animal into your home, you have taken that on until death do you part. The only exception is if the animal could be a danger to a human in the house, be that because of an allergy or aggressive behavior. So, why do I travel with rabbits? Because they are mine to care for, simple as that.
Some of my bunny-loving friends might be concerned about the health and happiness of my furry friends, so let me start by saying: I debated my choice to travel with them with deep thought and consideration before uprooting us to live on the road. Their personalities played a big part in my peace with them traveling full-time. Both Benjamin and Peter are what I call “extra sassy.” While Peter was more skittish than Benjamin, the little guy used to attack the vacuum cleaner and pooper-scooper when they got anywhere near him. Benjamin might be the chillest rabbit ever born, he gets annoyed way more than he gets scared. They are also the reason I got the RV I did. Personally, I could have gotten a much smaller rig and been just fine (I’m considering getting a Class “B,” aka a van, once Benjamin goes to the burrow in the sky). That small of a space, however, wouldn’t have been fair to my boys. Benjamin has been free-range all his life, and Peter may have lived in a hutch (a two-story castle), but he got to run around (in his section of the living room) most of the time. The cruelest thing you can do to a bunny is not give them space to run and stretch their legs. The toy hauler is perfect for them. The 8x8 room it provides allows them to live a relatively normal life.
One thing that did change was that Peter couldn’t get as much running time, since the space they shared was half the size of my old living room and my two boys had never bonded, so they had to remain separated (they hated each other so much that one time when Peter escaped his fencing he hurt Benjamin so bad my big guy had to get stitches!). As the months passed, I sensed Peter becoming depressed. So, after having given up years earlier to get them to bond, I tried again. To my shock, they immediately started showing affection to each other, after years of being aggressive and combative. For five months we were a happy little RV family.
You may notice that I keep referring to “them,” but recently I’ve only talk about Benjamin. This is the tragic part of owning any animal, eventually you have to say goodbye. I worried that traveling in an RV would be too stressful, but in the end, Peter died from a common rabbit malady: digestive issues. I’m not sure which, but there was a series of events that conspired against my poor little bunbun. First, I ran out of their favorite pellets, I had a replacement, but both bunnies refused to even touch it. Then, Benjamin started his summer shedding (his undercoat is crazy thick and after he sheds it I am amazed that there is any bunny left). Rabbits show affection by grooming, so I can only assume that Peter digested too much of Benjamin’s hair. Then, the final nail in my little guy’s coffin was that, because of Covid, the only emergency exotic vet clinic nearby wasn’t accepting any walk-in and were fully booked. Peter went from binking around the RV to dead in less than 36 hours. Common for rabbits, but no less devastating. Thankfully, because I was at home at the time, he was able to be buried with the pets that had gone before him. I don’t know what I would have done with his body if we’d been on the road when it happened (I shudder at the thought of what I would have done, it’s too horrible to even consider). This fall when I headed out again, it was just Benjamin and me.
So, you might ask, what is it like traveling the country with a rabbit in tow? (Maybe you didn’t ask, but you’ve made it this far, so I’m guessing you’re, at very least, curious). Benjamin has a lot of, um, personality. He’s very particular and has specific expectations regarding what he believes he’s entitled to. Hay, for example; I have forty pounds of the highest quality, second cut, hay that came with me when I left Minnesota. Why? Because the common hay that can be purchased at a pet store is unacceptable for Benjamin. I know this because once, when the good stuff was on backorder, I bought four bags from the pet store and, after he refused the first, I opened all four for his inspection. He went into each bag, sniffed, then backed out again, not even tasting a single stalk.
Benjamin’s also very affectionate, but in the same way most cats are: on his own terms. Don’t worry, he lets me know when he wants snuggles. There are evenings when I’m settling into bed for the night and I hear a thump, pause, thump. Anyone who’s owned a rabbit will know that sound as a demand for attention. With Benjamin, that means he feels ignored and will “punish” me if he doesn’t get what he wants – and considering his punishment is not eating (so for a bunny, that basically equals committing suicide) – I have to give in. So I find myself trudging down my ladder, collecting him from the back, lifting him up onto my bed, and then clambering behind him – afraid he’ll try to jump down the six or so feet to the ground, if I don’t corral him. We then stretch out together, his furry body stretched out against mine. I often read or listen to a podcast with him tucked next to me. At some point, love licks usually happen (something any bunny parent knows is the ultimate sign of bunny love). However, I can’t fall asleep until he’s had his fill. First, because he can’t get down without seriously hurting himself and, second, because he has 100% peed all over me on two different occasions when I held him longer than he wanted!
Another stressor is the weather. In general, we’ve stayed in areas where to daytime temperatures have stayed below the mid-80s, and when we were home over the summer, and it got hotter than that, I was able to turn on the air conditioning for him. Rabbits do fine in colder temperatures, even down to the 20s they’ll be okay. Heat, on the other hand, can take them out easily (I guess if I was wearing a fur coat all the time, I’d not be a fan of temps over 65 either). I almost lost both rabbits due to heat related illnesses a few years ago, so I’m not willing to risk Benjamin again. Only once has heat been a problem. When I was in Maryland in May there was a forecast for high 90s on days I didn’t have hookup (which equals no AC). Two of the days I was staying with a friend and she agreed to let him hangout inside her house. However, one of the days I had come up with an alternative solution. Google to the rescue (per usual). I found a vet that treated exotics and basically begged them to board him for the day. They hesitated (for really good reasons, since new environments and the smell/sound of dogs stress rabbits out) but in the end they let him stay for the day. He was not pleased, but he survived the heatwave, so I’m putting that in the “win” column.
Overall, traveling with a bunny has been pretty great. He’s a warm body when I need company and someone waiting for me when I return from a day out. Unlike a dog, he doesn’t need to be let out to pee or run (though he has decided he likes peeing on the puppy pads I put outside his litter box more often than in his actual litter box) and, unlike a cat, he stays in his own area. He doesn’t demand to leave someplace I am enjoying, and I don’t have to ask his opinion on where we’re going next. He’s pretty even tempered – except when I forget to give him his pellets because I’m on a video chat with a friend and lose track of time and suddenly it’s 9pm and he comes out of his area glaring at me with a look that could kill (something I didn’t know a rabbit could do). Overall, he’s basically the best travel companion a girl could ask for.
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