Satin vs. English

Busy day Sunday:

9 AM – 11 AM: Bake apple pies.

11 - Noon o’clock: Get ready to leave.

Noon-thirty – 1:30 PM: Look at rabbits!

Today, Crystal is letting Jason and I look at her rabbits. Fortunately, she lives a hop, skip and a jump away from Jason in the Renton Highlands. It took us three, maybe five minutes at the most, to drive to her place.

We decided to match by wearing flannel shirts – mine was grass green and celadon, and Jason wore his twilight blue Pendleton, and we both topped it with knitted hats I made. We were like mismatched socks that still fit perfectly.

Crystal’s house sat on top of a decently sized lot encased by a wire fence. Three Rottweilers and a tiny Dachshund greeted us at the gate, barking at our feet. She was a younger breeder, maybe eighteen or nineteen years old. Her mother, also a breeder, showed us her three week old rabbits. She let me hold them so I picked up a chocolate bunny and cradled it close to my chest. I stroked its back gently since it was no bigger than my itty bitty hand. I looked at Jason, unable to stop gushing and cooing every five seconds. But it wasn’t long before it wanted to commit bunny suicide by jumping from my hand to the floor. I was able to catch it before the four-foot fall would’ve marked the end of its life and decided it would be best to put it back in its cage.

Once we broke away from the baby bunnies, Crystal took us to the backyard to see the rest of her rabbits. There were about ten, each in individual cages, stacked on top another, and a handful on the ground that she was holding for fellow breeders. My eyes were distracted by the cute and rather smelly bunnies. Their metal cages with the pull-out poop compartments reminded me of my own rabbits when I was a child, Spanky and Flopsy, gifted to me by an auntie obsessed with bunnies.

Then I saw him, Vanilla Bean. I recognized him from the picture Crystal sent me of her REW English angora. At this point, I was on the fence between the English and the Satin, but upon seeing this furry creature, felt like the English breed was what I needed: something with a lot of wool, a compact size and sweet temperament. And I heard the fluff is amazing.

Crystal pulled the little guy out of the cage by the extra skin on his neck. She held the white rabbit in her arms as tufts of hair scattered all over her grey shirt. “That happens a lot,” she said as she scanned her chest. “We pull it off or use a lint roller, but we always save them.” I smiled and reached out to touch the rabbit. There was no exaggeration to it. The wool was soft, airless. I felt the rabbit’s bones as I petted underneath its coat and wondered about its body to wool ratio – 1:3, at least. With how much it fluffs, I marveled at how much fiber I could get from it. Enough to make a hat with after a few months, maybe? Who knows? Who cares? I think my mind is set on what I want.

Presenting, Crystal's English angora, Vanilla Bean: 

However, Crystal expressed she was unsure she wanted to sell her only REW English angora. With the tender way she petting him, I couldn’t tear her away from a loved pet. That’s inhumane. I told her to show me her Satin angoras instead, though I had no interest in them. I knew what breed I wanted. So she pointed to a neighboring cage with two rabbits, one smoke and the other a cinnamon. They were jerky and I was afraid they’d bite me. The colors were beautiful and the wool matted nicely on its back, but after seeing Vanilla Bean I was not willing to be swayed.