Because we needed to muck out the bunny cage, we had to move the nest. And we didn't know which doe was mama. One of the ones we chose as a likely candidate ended up scattering the babies out of the nest. Two died over that first night, but one was still alive in the morning. Barely.
I warmed him in my hands, and fed him some half n half using a twist of paper towel to suck on.
My cousin, who has a small, organic farm, suggested a Pritchard nipple. We bought one, along with some Kitten Milk Replacer, suggested by Uncle Google.
Every morning, when I check on him, and find him still alive, I'm amazed. Everyone I've talked to says that bunnies are really, really hard to bottle raise.
He sleeps in a small box with a scrap of fleece to burrow into, and a heating pad on low. He's in a bird cage so the other pets can't molest him; at least that's the theory.
Today was day 4. Taking it one day at a time. I call him Taco, because wrapped in a blanket in my hand, he looks like a little soft taco. But Matt says Taquito fits better at this point.
And isn't that tiny ear just adorable?
Update: Little Taco only lived seven days. I miss him terribly.