Valerie Bertsch has always been drawn to rabbits, so much so she decorated her Medford Lakes, N.J., home with paintings and sculptures of bunnies. Yet for much of her life, Bertsch owned only cats and dogs.
“As I got older, I thought ‘I’ve always wanted a bunny. What am I waiting for?’ ” she said.
And so, for her 59th birthday, Bertsch wrote a note that read “I got you a bunny,” put the note in a box, wrapped it, addressed it to herself, and signed it from her husband, Jay.
“He was in good humor about it,” she said.
In the two years since getting her first bunny, Bertsch — a mother, grandmother, and Compass real estate broker — quickly fell down the rabbit hole. She’s now got two litter box-trained “house buns,” (who live harmoniously with her three dogs), and she’s converted her two-car garage into a rabbit café where she’s currently fostering 10 bunnies through Tribbles Rabbit Rescue of South Jersey.
“Valerie caught rabbit fever,” said Lori Mills, founder and owner of Tribbles. “Once you have a rabbit, you are going to be smitten.”
Though Bertsch’s café is more homespun than public rabbit cafés in Japan and Canada, it’s still ear-resistibly adorable.
Visitors are greeted with a sign welcoming “everybunny,” you can get hopped up on free coffee and tea served in bunny cups, and prints of rabbit artwork by Hunt Slonem decorate the walls. Even the bathroom here is bunny-themed.
(Rabbit fact break: Did you know bunnies poop 200 to 300 times a day?)
The cafe is ringed with pens where the rabbits live — some in bonded pairs (like odd couple Charles, a slob, and his devoted partner Bun Bun, a neat freak), and some alone, like bun (a Netherland dwarf rabbit). In the center is a large pen where visitors can interact with the bunnies.
With notice, guests can come to learn about pet rabbits and see if they might be interested in fostering or adopting one. Even bunny snugglers are welcome, because they too have an important job at the café.
“The best shot the buns have at being adopted is by being more acclimated to humans so they will be the chosen ones,” Bertsch said.
Some of the rabbits were surrendered to Tribbles, others were abandoned in cages or dumped in the wild, where they have little hope of survival.
Mills (whom Bertsch calls the “Mother Teresa of rabbits”) began rescuing bunnies in 2010 and founded Tribbles in 2015, naming it in honor of her late father, a Star Trek fan who said her rabbits reminded him of the furry aliens who multiplied exponentially on the show.
In a given year, Mills said she rescues more than 1,500 rabbits. She has 40 to 60 at a time in her Lindenwold home and uses a network of fosters to house the rest.
Tribbles is particularly busy around Easter, when people buy rabbits as gifts, not knowing what ownership entails, and around Thanksgiving and Memorial Day, when they go on vacation and don’t want to worry about a pet, Mills said.
The reasons people abandon or surrender rabbits are as diverse as the bunnies the rescue takes in. While rabbits like to be snuggled, being picked up bugs bunnies, unless they’re very familiar with someone. This often leaves kids, who expect them to be like kittens or puppies, bored, Mills said.
Some people who surrender rabbits are moving or face eviction because their rabbit isn’t covered under a pet clause. Others just don’t do their research on what rabbit ownership entails, Mills said.
One reason people give up on bunnies is something Bertsch encountered with her first rabbit, a white Holland lop named Fiona. About three months in, the precious rabbit she’d known began making buzzing sounds, running laps, and spraying urine.
Confused, Bertsch went online and found Tribbles and Mills, who told her Fiona was in heat and needed to be spayed.
Grateful for Mills’ help, Bertsch began fostering rabbits for Tribbles. It started with one, then she devoted an entire room in her home before renovating her garage and converting it into the rabbit café last fall.
While she dreams of having a fluffle (Rabbit fact break: A group of bunnies is a fluffle), Bertsch keeps her buns separated, except for the bonded pairs, because they can be territorial.
At bedtime, she gives each rabbit a square of plain shredded wheat cereal, their favorite snack.
“They all lose their minds over this,” Bertsch said. “I go out and everyone is standing up on their back paws.”
(Rabbit fact break: When a bunny is so happy it can’t contain itself, it does a binky, which is jumping straight up in the air while twisting its head or legs.)
Regular visitors to Bertsch’s rabbit café include Ava Colon, 15, of Medford, who’s studying to be a vet tech.
“I come here and I just love it,” Colon said, as she petted Sandy, a perfectly rotund brown bun. “I would love to do something like this someday.”
