An excerpt from Northern California Angora Guild Angora Handbook 2nd Edition
Written by Shirley Braverman
On my grandfather's Angora Farm in Kirkwood, Missouri, there were never any frightened, spooked rabbits running wildly about in their cages, or rabbits with sore hocks, or baby rabbits that were accidentally stomped on by their mothers, or rabbits that suffered from cold or heat. All that was prevented by the marvelous rabbit holes my grandfather made. Called Holland Holes, rabbit raisers traveled for miles to buy these holes from Grandfather.
Every rabbit had one in his cage, the hole was the rabbit's home and protection, the cage or the pen was merely a method of confining the rabbit. Many farmers would gather up the holes with the rabbits in them and haul them out into the middle of the fields and plunk them down at dusk. The next morning they would be gathered up again and returned to their cages or colonies. For, when the sun came up and the chicken hawks filled the skies, the rabbits automatically returned to their homes.
The holes were made of 2-inch-by-12-inch pieces of lumber. The front part of the hole, about twelve inches long, looked very much like the wooden nestboxes of today, except that it had a four-inch ridge coming down from the top. The back compartment of the hole was also about twelve inches long. It had an inside divider wall with a six or seven inch hole in between. The two-compartment hole was enough for the bucks. The top of the hole was hinged with metal clasps in three places to make it strong, but the top could be opened by the breeder. When the buck crawled into his back compartment, no dog or fox could get him out. The four-inch ridge at the top of the front entryway prevented the predator from stretching his neck to put his nose far enough into the second compartment to get the rabbit.
This hole, I understand, was fashioned after the wild rabbits' habits. When a wild rabbit suspects danger, he runs into the entrance of his burrow and then turns around to see what the disturbance is. If the rabbit decides the danger is real, he stomps at the entrance to warn the others and then dives into his burrow.
The hill men who came down to buy Holland Holes would tell tales of foxes and dogs who had broken into the cages and were knocking the holes around something awful. After the breeders had run them off, they were sure they would find their rabbits frightened to death inside. But they were wrong. Br'er Rabbit knows when he is safe.
The breeding does had a three-compartment hole. The third and rear compartment - again with a dividing board with a seven-inch hole in it - served as a nestbox. On the back side of the third compartment was a little door four inches square that was also hinged. This was for the bunnies to come out. The door was opened when the bunnies were sixteen days old. When they grew so that they couldn't get back into their nestboxes, it was time to move them to new quarters. If the doe got frightened after she had kindled, she could hop in the front part of the box and stamp without hurting her bunnies in her panic.
Did I mention that these holes were beautifully constructed? They were sanded, varnished and then painted with the gay colors of the Dutch Hex signs. Many times the rabbit's name and lineage was painted into the design. The handle was attached to the front sides of the hole and projected to the front so that the whole thing could be carried. This was the way rabbits were transported. There were no carrying cages in those days. Also if a rabbit was to go into a colony, her hole went with her. The rabbit kept her own hole for as long as she lived.
The two-inch thick wood served as insulation against the bitter cold. When the rabbit curled up inside his compartment, his own warmth protected him and the small entryway kept out the cold air. In the same way, the babies were protected from the cold; the air that came through to them was heated by their mother's body and breath first.
Most of the rabbits also liked to sit on top of their hole, so it served as a resting board also, preventing sore hocks. Some of the bunnies liked to chew, so my grandfather would put little blocks of wood into the cages to chew. But if they chewed on their holes, the area was brushed with bitter aloes or toady juice and then the rabbit learned that he was not to chew his hole.
The holes also protected the rabbits against some of the summer heat, but in the hot, hot part of summer, a different hole, the summer hole, was put into the cages to keep the rabbits cool. This hole was constructed of a double layer of wire with a space of three to four inches in between the wire layers. This was a one-compartment hole. A little piece of oiled cloth covered the inner wire cage. Then the three-inch space between the wire was stuffed with dead dry moss. Each morning these cages were held under the water in the water barrel until they stopped bubbling. Then they were hung up for about five minutes until they stopped dripping. They were then placed into the rabbit cages and in hopped the rabbit. In this hole he could stay completely cool during the heat of the day and would even be safe and comfortable during the night if he wanted to stay inside the hole.
During this time, the permanent wooden holes were thoroughly scrubbed and repainted and, with the tops completely open, left in the sun for about two or three weeks until they were completely sterilized and ready to be placed back with its rabbit when the heat was over.
Well, you might say, you can't leave a hole in a rabbit's cage all the time. He'll make a dirty mess in no time and get sick. But you have to understand one thing. This was a Dutch farm and if you know the Dutch, you know they have this thing about cleanliness. My grandmother used to say that during Medieval times when the rest of Europe was almost wiped out by the plague, Holland was spared because there were no rats or fleas in Holland. Knowing my grandmother, I believed her. And you have to believe me when I tell you that these rabbits did not dirty their holes. Now, exactly how my grandparents taught the rabbits this, I don't know. But I can remember as a child coming into the rabbitry when it was bitterly cold and all the rabbits were in their holes and I would begin to gather up the frozen crocks. Once in a while a rabbit would hop out of her hole, run over to the corner, go to the bathroom, take a drink of water and zap back into the hole. Sometimes when it was very cold, we would place the feed and water crocks into the front entryway of the rabbit's hole. Then the rabbit didn't even have to leave her hole for meals. She would just stick her head out and eat and drink. But when she had to relieve herself - it was out and over into the corner and back.
As of yet, I have not had my husband make me a true rabbit hole like those William Heindrink van Dam made, but I'm toying with the idea. Not only would it make me feel nostalgic, it also might be enjoyed by my rabbits.
Written by Shirley Braverman
On my grandfather's Angora Farm in Kirkwood, Missouri, there were never any frightened, spooked rabbits running wildly about in their cages, or rabbits with sore hocks, or baby rabbits that were accidentally stomped on by their mothers, or rabbits that suffered from cold or heat. All that was prevented by the marvelous rabbit holes my grandfather made. Called Holland Holes, rabbit raisers traveled for miles to buy these holes from Grandfather.
Every rabbit had one in his cage, the hole was the rabbit's home and protection, the cage or the pen was merely a method of confining the rabbit. Many farmers would gather up the holes with the rabbits in them and haul them out into the middle of the fields and plunk them down at dusk. The next morning they would be gathered up again and returned to their cages or colonies. For, when the sun came up and the chicken hawks filled the skies, the rabbits automatically returned to their homes.
The holes were made of 2-inch-by-12-inch pieces of lumber. The front part of the hole, about twelve inches long, looked very much like the wooden nestboxes of today, except that it had a four-inch ridge coming down from the top. The back compartment of the hole was also about twelve inches long. It had an inside divider wall with a six or seven inch hole in between. The two-compartment hole was enough for the bucks. The top of the hole was hinged with metal clasps in three places to make it strong, but the top could be opened by the breeder. When the buck crawled into his back compartment, no dog or fox could get him out. The four-inch ridge at the top of the front entryway prevented the predator from stretching his neck to put his nose far enough into the second compartment to get the rabbit.
This hole, I understand, was fashioned after the wild rabbits' habits. When a wild rabbit suspects danger, he runs into the entrance of his burrow and then turns around to see what the disturbance is. If the rabbit decides the danger is real, he stomps at the entrance to warn the others and then dives into his burrow.
The hill men who came down to buy Holland Holes would tell tales of foxes and dogs who had broken into the cages and were knocking the holes around something awful. After the breeders had run them off, they were sure they would find their rabbits frightened to death inside. But they were wrong. Br'er Rabbit knows when he is safe.
The breeding does had a three-compartment hole. The third and rear compartment - again with a dividing board with a seven-inch hole in it - served as a nestbox. On the back side of the third compartment was a little door four inches square that was also hinged. This was for the bunnies to come out. The door was opened when the bunnies were sixteen days old. When they grew so that they couldn't get back into their nestboxes, it was time to move them to new quarters. If the doe got frightened after she had kindled, she could hop in the front part of the box and stamp without hurting her bunnies in her panic.
Did I mention that these holes were beautifully constructed? They were sanded, varnished and then painted with the gay colors of the Dutch Hex signs. Many times the rabbit's name and lineage was painted into the design. The handle was attached to the front sides of the hole and projected to the front so that the whole thing could be carried. This was the way rabbits were transported. There were no carrying cages in those days. Also if a rabbit was to go into a colony, her hole went with her. The rabbit kept her own hole for as long as she lived.
The two-inch thick wood served as insulation against the bitter cold. When the rabbit curled up inside his compartment, his own warmth protected him and the small entryway kept out the cold air. In the same way, the babies were protected from the cold; the air that came through to them was heated by their mother's body and breath first.
Most of the rabbits also liked to sit on top of their hole, so it served as a resting board also, preventing sore hocks. Some of the bunnies liked to chew, so my grandfather would put little blocks of wood into the cages to chew. But if they chewed on their holes, the area was brushed with bitter aloes or toady juice and then the rabbit learned that he was not to chew his hole.
The holes also protected the rabbits against some of the summer heat, but in the hot, hot part of summer, a different hole, the summer hole, was put into the cages to keep the rabbits cool. This hole was constructed of a double layer of wire with a space of three to four inches in between the wire layers. This was a one-compartment hole. A little piece of oiled cloth covered the inner wire cage. Then the three-inch space between the wire was stuffed with dead dry moss. Each morning these cages were held under the water in the water barrel until they stopped bubbling. Then they were hung up for about five minutes until they stopped dripping. They were then placed into the rabbit cages and in hopped the rabbit. In this hole he could stay completely cool during the heat of the day and would even be safe and comfortable during the night if he wanted to stay inside the hole.
During this time, the permanent wooden holes were thoroughly scrubbed and repainted and, with the tops completely open, left in the sun for about two or three weeks until they were completely sterilized and ready to be placed back with its rabbit when the heat was over.
Well, you might say, you can't leave a hole in a rabbit's cage all the time. He'll make a dirty mess in no time and get sick. But you have to understand one thing. This was a Dutch farm and if you know the Dutch, you know they have this thing about cleanliness. My grandmother used to say that during Medieval times when the rest of Europe was almost wiped out by the plague, Holland was spared because there were no rats or fleas in Holland. Knowing my grandmother, I believed her. And you have to believe me when I tell you that these rabbits did not dirty their holes. Now, exactly how my grandparents taught the rabbits this, I don't know. But I can remember as a child coming into the rabbitry when it was bitterly cold and all the rabbits were in their holes and I would begin to gather up the frozen crocks. Once in a while a rabbit would hop out of her hole, run over to the corner, go to the bathroom, take a drink of water and zap back into the hole. Sometimes when it was very cold, we would place the feed and water crocks into the front entryway of the rabbit's hole. Then the rabbit didn't even have to leave her hole for meals. She would just stick her head out and eat and drink. But when she had to relieve herself - it was out and over into the corner and back.
As of yet, I have not had my husband make me a true rabbit hole like those William Heindrink van Dam made, but I'm toying with the idea. Not only would it make me feel nostalgic, it also might be enjoyed by my rabbits.
