I’m not much of an animal person, really. I don’t care for indoor pets, or outdoor ones that touch you. I am much more disgusted by street dogs than sympathetic. I am supportive of the local practice that any animal can be eaten, and that included our little bunny when we bought him.
We thought he was the perfect pet: you buy him when he’s tiny and adorable. You have fun with the kids, he sits on your lap, and then eventually he grows up and you give him away to the neighbors to be eaten. He is beneficial in both life and death, if you will. When the neighbors asked us if we were going to eat him, I replied, “Not yet. Later.”
I thought this would take me two to four weeks, before he’d be too big or dirty or smelly. Or maybe just boring?
Instead, he is currently sitting on my lap while I write. He will run around the kitchen when I go to make dinner in a few minutes and he’s coming with me to bible study this evening.
Y’all, this bunny is too much fun.
He’s much cuter than I even thought he’d be. The little wiggle of his nose and the way he stands on his back legs; the way he runs to edge of his cage every time you walk by; the way he nibbles on carrots right out of your hand; the way his feet slide on the tile when he runs off in a scared hurry. They way he just sleeps on my lap as though everything is right in the world.
The kids love him. They talk to him and pass him around, chase him around the room. He patiently lets them hold him like a baby or squeeze too tight.
And really, they are a great help to reminding me to give him food and water!