top of page

Raising Rabbits to Feed the Dogs



We raise rabbits, primarily, to feed our dogs.

The short version

We raise meat rabbits and process them at home at 12–14 weeks — the standard time frame where a rabbit has put on good meat but hasn't started eating into its own feed efficiency. The meat becomes raw food for our working dogs. We currently eat very little of it ourselves, because our table is covered by other stock — but a rabbit is also a meal if we ever need one, which is part of why we keep them. We process with care, on our own ground, and we don't hide it from the kids. The loop is the point: an animal we raised feeding an animal we love.

Why we do it this way

Before the pet-food aisle existed, dogs ate what the farm produced — scraps, culls, and yes, rabbits. Feeding animals to animals isn't some fringe idea; it's the oldest version of the relationship there is. Our industrialized food system took that natural loop, ground it into a bag, slapped a cartoon dog on the front, and sold it back to us at a markup. We're not doing anything radical here. We're just closing the loop back up where it always was.

A rabbit is a near-perfect candidate for that loop. It's small enough to manage humanely and cleanly at home, lean, and clean-feeding — and it converts hay and forage into dense protein faster than almost anything else we raise.

Why rabbits, specifically

People assume rabbits are the soft option. They're actually one of the hardest-working animals on a homestead:

  • Feed conversion in a tiny footprint. They turn forage, hay, and pellets into high-quality protein on a fraction of the land and feed any of our ruminants need.

  • Cold manure straight to the garden. Unlike chicken or horse manure, rabbit droppings don't need composting before they hit the beds. Free, balanced fertility as a byproduct.

  • Quiet and fast. No noise to annoy a neighbor, and a doe can produce a remarkable amount of meat in a year.

  • A genuine emergency protein. This is the unglamorous truth a lot of homesteaders won't say out loud: part of why we keep rabbits is that they're a meal if we ever need one to be. Resilience is a beneficial quality, even when you hope you never cash it in.

  • Whole-animal use. We take off the head, the pelt, the intestines, and the lower bowel — and the entire rest of the rabbit goes through the grinder. Meat, bone, and organs, all of it, fed as it was meant to be. Almost nothing is wasted.


A working dog, fed like a working animal

Our dogs are working Border Collies, and we feed them accordingly. Once a rabbit is processed, we remove the head, pelt, intestines, and lower bowel, and the entire rest of the carcass goes through the grinder — meat, bone, and organs together. That's the whole point of feeding this way: a dog's body is built to use the whole animal, not just the lean muscle, and grinding bone and organ in gets much closer to what a working animal would eat if it caught its own dinner. What I'll say plainly is that there's a certain rightness to a dog that works our stock being fed by the same land it works.

Doing it with respect

This is the part the fluffy guides skip, so I won't. Processing day is calm and deliberate. We do it quickly and competently, because a swift, skilled hand is the most respect you can show an animal at the end. Once the rabbit is dispatched, we remove the head, the pelt, the intestines, and the lower bowel — the parts we don't feed — and everything that remains goes whole into the grinder for the dogs. A good life on grass and clean hay, ended in one hard, honest moment and then almost entirely used, is worth more than pretending the meat in any bowl — ours or the dog's — came from nowhere.

Why the kids are right there

The kids have grown up knowing this is part of how the farm works, and more often than not they're nearby when we process. That's not an oversight — it's the whole education. Children who understand that food is a life, given and taken with care, grow up with a steadier, kinder relationship to where their meals come from than children handed a sanitized cartoon version. We don't make a spectacle of it and we don't traumatize anyone with it. We answer their questions honestly, at whatever age they're asking, and we let the reverence be the lesson. That's the same standard I hold for every life in our care — not just the convenient ones.

Going deeper

The rabbits are one loop; the whole farm is built out of loops like it. The reasoning behind raising animals for the whole of their use — including the hard, honest end of it, and how we talk about it with our own family — is the worldview at the heart of my book, Homesteading with Dairy Goats. It's where I get into the whole-animal approach in full: not just the pretty parts, but the responsibility that comes with raising any creature you also intend to use.

Quick answers

At what age do you process meat rabbits? We process at 12–14 weeks — old enough for good meat, young enough that the rabbit is still converting feed efficiently.


Is rabbit good for raw dog food? Rabbit is a lean, clean, novel protein that many working and sensitive dogs do well on. We feed it as a ground whole carcass — bone and organ included — which is what makes it a balanced meal rather than just lean meat.


Do you eat the rabbits yourselves? Not much, currently — our table is covered by sheep, chicken, and goat. We keep rabbits mainly for the dogs, for their fertility and efficiency, and as a meal we could lean on if we ever needed to.

Comments


bottom of page