Hello faithful readers!
In case you haven’t picked up on it yet, my name is Abby. This lends itself to people pointing out that writing “Dear Abby” reminds them of the once-popular advice column founded in the 1950s by Abigail Van Buren.
This picture doesn’t relate to this post, but it says “Abby” on my sweater.
I am not Abigail Van Buren—or an Abigail, for that matter—but I do like to dispense helpful advice to anyone who is brave enough to ask. However, in a shocking turn of events, a) no one has offered me my own syndicated column and b) no one has really come out and asked me for advice.
Perhaps I’m an intimidating figure, what with the tens of fans that I have, so I’m just going to go ahead and assume that the search terms that lead to my blog are actually anonymous questions from troubled souls looking for guidance from me.
Once I added a question mark to the end of these terms, it became clear that there are quite a few pressing matters to attend to! However, we’ll start with this one, as it appears it could be time-sensitive.
Q: Need to bury pet rabbit. How long does rigor mortis last?
A: I believe you’re actually wondering how long it takes to set in, as although I’m no doctor, I think it lasts forever. Either way, you stumbled upon my blog through that search for good reason. I can speak to this particular situation with personal experience (about the rabbit and not rigor mortis of my own, although as I get older I feel like I’m dead.)
When I was but a wee little Abby with issues, I had a pet bunny named Mitten, cleverly named for the white mitten on his black foot. One day I was at a friend’s house and distinctly remember that we made mini personalized pizzas in a janky E-Z Bake Oven.
Upon my return home I was informed that sometime between my departure and the pizzas, poor little Mitten had died.
While I was told it was of “natural causes,” it was later revealed that my dad—an unsavory character I don’t often speak of—had in fact cleaned Mitten’s cage with a mystery ingredient just hours before Mitten’s demise.
These were pre-CSI days, and I still harbor a wealth of suspicion.
But to answer your question—not about whether my dad was a Mitten murder, but rather about rigor mortis — the little rabbit’s legs were sticking straight out by the time we tried to put him in the shoebox/coffin, and this was only a couple hours past his “alleged” peaceful passing.
What followed was slightly traumatic, but necessary, as a proper burial was of course, a must.
So we cut holes in the end of the box, wrapped his body in a towel down to his little bunny thighs and shoved his stiff-ass legs through the holes.
After what I would like to recall as a rousing eulogy and chorus of “Circle of Life,” poor Mitten was laid to rest in the pet cemetery, gone but not forgotten.
According to the search terms there are many more questions I could touch on today—“is an ass crack sexual harassment” and “drunk nun book club,” for example— but I feel that’s enough for right now. I don’t want to overwhelm you with knowledge.
But if you, my dear readers, have a situation of your own in which you seek counsel — whether it’s serious or seriously funny — feel free to shoot me a note.
I’m just here to help, after all.
Like the blog? Buy the book.
Drunk nun book club? Is there any other kind of nun book club?
Ha! What a weird question. Good, thorough answer.
Oh my god. I thought my search terms were weird. Those takes the cake.
I’d really like to hear your take on whether an ass crack is sexual harassment. WHAT?
This is obviously an issue that needs to be discussed. After I do some research, I’ll report back. It’s not good to reply based on emotional reaction…
If the answer to that ass crack question is YES, then I have been sexually harassed by high school girls in low rise jeans since I got on the bus this morning. Can I get some kind of emotional damages paid out?
This sounds like a case for Judge Judy.
I will think of Mitten every time I think of rigor mortis! I will use your story to explain the term to my kids some day. Thanks, Abby. Thanks so much.
I feel so enlightened.
I’m here to provide a service, my friend.
So I checked my search terms after reading this post and it turns out my blog is boring. The most exciting were “bulbous banana squash” and “giant husband”. Also, “midwestern bite flob” was kinda interesting. Not sure what a flob is.
The truly interesting thing about this post is that now you have actually discussed rigor mortis in rabbits which means you’ll be getting even more hits about the topic! More hits means another post about it and the cycle will continue till your entire blog is a virtual pet cemetery.
What a kind and thorough answer. I am anxiously awaiting your response to the ass crack.
I can see why that would be of particular significance to you at this moment in time 😉
The best search term to my blog last time I looked were “hot bubble butt yoga pants.” Since I’ve never posted a picture of my butt in yoga pants, I can assume they were looking to purchase a pair of yoga pants that would give them a hot bubble butt…
If you find out where those can be purchased, let me know.
As usual, you are entertaining as well as enlightening!
Reminds me of the trusting geese and that dachshund – such close friends..until left alone one afternoon (the geese flew away, right?…they wouldn’t have fit in a shoebox anyway)
You never fail to make me laugh, even when discussing dead pets!
Rigor mortis only lasts a day or two. I think a post dedicated to a correction would only be proper. You’ll make it to page one of the “rabbit rigor mortis” results eventually.
Really? Good to know, I think. Probably not, but I appreciate the correction 😉
I found this to be highly educational and potentially helpful to myself in the future but hopefully not.
I think I saw Drunk Nun Book Club play CBGBs in 1994.
I’ve always thought of Abby Has Issues as the only government agency that works.
I am sad to hear about the passing of your rabbit, and that it has taken you this long to be able to talk about it. I too lost a rabbit on my youth. My mother let it out for a walk and it never came back. Possibly they both met in Rabbit heaven and are now happily eating lettuce sandwiches and discussing how odd humans become when they grow up.
Your mom let your rabbit out for a walk? Is that normal? I had a professor that used to take her huge rabbit out on a leash, but she also went along with it. At any rate, 25 years later I think I’m okay. I can’t say as much for poor Mitten 😉
Yes. My mum was a bit ditzy. Needless to say the rabbit was never seen again. I was heartbroken at the time I rfemember
Poor poor Mitten. And his stiff little legs.
Was that the last time you even touched a mini pizza? 😉
Gasp! Of course not! It was the last rabbit that I ever owned though. We moved on to bigger mammals with no further incidents to report 😉
Love this on rigor mortis: ” …I believe you’re actually wondering how long it takes to set in, as although I’m no doctor, I think it lasts forever.” BAHAHA! I can so hear your voice there. I had a bunny as a child that mysteriously disappeared, as well, so we share a past of bunny trauma, but at least I didn’t have to view his stiff little remains.
I’ve never known how to look for search terms. Perhaps you can enlighten me.
I just have the free WordPress blog and it’s in the “stats” section every day. It’s quite entertaining–not the stats, but the search terms 😉
Hilarious and freakin’ brilliant my friend.
Too good! I will have to check my search terms. I guess I can do that in those awful statistics that I hate looking at. I have a feeling that none of them will be as interesting as yours. So sorry for your bunny. My mom ran over our cat when I was a little kid but that was on accident and I think she was more upset about it than us.