📅 Saturday, 5 September 2026 · No. 157

Wishing for Bunny Insurance (Vet Care Is Rare)

🌿 Daily Logs · ✎ 4 min · by Azmi in Meknes

Azmi's note My personal log from Meknes, not vet advice. Just what I did and saw tonight.

I am Azmi, writing from Meknes, and this post is a petition. Not a formal one with stamps and queues, just a diary page with its hand raised. I am asking, on behalf of every small fluffy creature in this country, for one thing: bunny insurance. And behind that ask sits a bigger one: more rabbit vets, in more cities, within reach of ordinary people like me.

Article one: the situation on the ground

Where I live, pet insurance covers dogs and cats only, and even that is new. Rabbit vets are few, mostly in big cities. Outside them, finding help at all is hard. I hope rabbit ownership keeps growing here, because growth is what brings clinics, and clinics are what bring the vets, and the vets are what bring the day I stop feeling my stomach drop every time one of my bunnies sits quietly for too long.

Let me put it plainly in my care reality log, which I keep taped inside my head next to the grocery list:

Specialist vets: counted on one hand, all of them far away
Emergency plan: written, saved, shared with my family
Wish list: insurance for the small and the fluffy

Same story across the world, from what other owners tell me: cats and dogs first, bunnies wherever they fit. Someone in another city mentioned having twenty specialists within driving distance, and I stared at that number the way you stare at a lottery ticket. Twenty. I would settle for one within an hour of my door.

Article two: why I am asking, with evidence

I am not a vet, and nothing here is medical advice. When something looks wrong with my rabbits, I call a rabbit-savvy vet and follow their guidance, and I want every reader to do the same. What I can give you is the owner side of the ledger, the part the insurance brochures never show.

Exhibit A is my carrier. I keep it packed and ready, because when the only vet who sees rabbits is far away, you do not get to waste an hour looking for a towel. My full list lives here: my carrier pack list, what I grab first when we must leave. Every item on that list exists because I once needed it and did not have it. That is how rabbit care works out here. You learn by almost being too late.

Exhibit B is the night Lola went quiet. I have written it up in the night Lola went quiet, my sick-day sheet, and I reread it whenever I feel complacent. A quiet rabbit at night, when no clinic nearby will pick up the phone, is the loneliest feeling I know. I sat on the floor with her, watched her breathing, and rehearsed the drive I hoped I would not have to make. She was fine by morning. I was not fine for a week.

Multiply that night by every rabbit owner outside the big cities and you get my petition. We are doing the watching, the driving, the paying, the worrying, all of it out of pocket and mostly alone. Insurance would not just help with bills. It would say, officially, that rabbits count. That small lives are worth underwriting. That matters more than the money.

Article three: what I am asking for

First, I ask the insurers: look at the rabbits. There are more of us every year, young owners in apartments, families with house rabbits, all of us already spending real money on hay and housing and care. We are a market. We are waiting. Draw up the small-and-fluffy policy and we will sign it.

Second, I ask the vet schools and the clinics: train more rabbit vets, and put some of them in cities like mine. One specialist changes everything for a whole region. I know, because the one I drive to has changed everything for me.

Third, I ask fellow owners: keep the diary. Until insurance exists, the diary doubles as a health file. Every visit logged, every receipt kept, every strange quiet evening written down with the date. My notebook has caught patterns I would never have remembered otherwise, and it makes every distant vet visit twice as useful, because I walk in with facts instead of panic.

Fourth, I ask myself to keep showing up. Advocacy from a living room in Meknes looks small: a diary, a carrier, a petition-shaped blog post. But every owner who logs a visit, shares a vet name, or writes down what worked is building the road the clinics will one day drive down. I am doing my stretch of it, one page at a time.

So consider this page signed: Azmi, Meknes, owner of round bunnies and big hopes. Twenty specialists in one city sounds like a dream from here. I am planting this petition like a flag and tending it like hay. One day the small and fluffy get their paperwork too. Until then, the diary stays open, the carrier stays packed, and the hand stays raised.

🐰

Written by Azmi

I track my rabbits' diet, weight and naps to see what works. Photos are mine, mess included. Say hi on the contact page.

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