Yes, the bunny is on a leash.
As noted in the title of my blog, my usual subjects are my own 3 sons, but this blog entry is about my surrogate daughter, Snowball. Snowball is the last of 3 bunnies that we purchased over 3 years ago as pets. 3 seemed like a magical number at the time. My husband and I each have 2 siblings, we have 3 sons, the Holy Trinity... I don't think that God meant for us to have 3 bunnies and it was pretty evident as the number slowly dwindled down to one. I'd tell you what happened to the other two, but then I'd have to bring up issues with the crazy neighbor and I really don't want to go into that detail. Cocoa and Fuzzbucket are in a better place and poor Snowball is still among the living, trying very hard each day to dig her little way out of the yard to the little piece of heaven on the other side of the fence.
I had multiple friends tell me that I should share my stories about my sassy bunny on my blog. She is quite entertaining, you know. I thought that if I were to do anything nice for her (never mind feeding her), it would be to blog about her so the world would know that I do acknowledge her as more than a strangely large cotton ball with fiery red eyes. (PS, I think she's blind)
So, the Lady has been a bit curious since she's become a free-range bun-in-the-sun. She gets first pickin' of the bountiful weeds and even the jalapeno plant (to which she has not partaken of yet....she may be smarter than she acts). She spends most of her time scampering around the garden and then laying in the shade for one of her 10 daily naps before the sun goes down. That's when the magic really does happen....Yes! My camillia plant has MAGICALLY disappeared! SO...call me crazy, but I find myself staring late at night into the yard from the patio door. I flick on the patio light and I stare at her, as if she even cares that I am there. I know that she knows, and she looks at me like, "I am sassy. I see you. I don't care. You can turn on the light and admire my beauty and call me albino because I have red eyes and white fur, but it isn't going to stop me from eating your camillia plant when you go to bed." Then she shakes her head like Justin Bieber and goes on licking herself.
I've been out in the garden a lot lately and she's been pretty friendly. She'll come nip at my pants and stare at me. I read her mind and she's thinking "Yeah, this woman is crazy to think that she is actually going to make this prison yard look better." The fuzzball will then proceed to practice her speed drills by randomly running across the yard and then stop and stare at me some more. I think that staring is her greatest talent. Well, that and EATING MY CAMILLIA PLANT. She has this freaky way of just staring at me and following my every movement with just the turn of her head. She's crazy!
There are times when I go out there to search for her because I haven't seen her in a couple days. I guess I've got a soft spot for her. Maybe it's because she looks so pathetic when it rains. Dreadlocks and dirty fur are pretty pathetic. Maybe it is because I see a lot of myself in her. First, she's crazy. Second, she's a little OCD. We watch her dig holes for hours and hours only to fill them up afterwards then the next day, she's at it again. She's moody and will eat anything. My husband told me that my camillia plant is like junk food to her and that she can't resist. So I guess she really is like me. I guess if I was a bunny, I'd eat the camillia plant too. It is (was) the most beautiful thing in the yard...at least until the compost box made its arrival. (another story for another day)
So there you go. Don't get a bunny. They are so stinkin' cute that you won't ever have the heart to put her up on Craig's List under "free" when she eats your favorite plant. You won't have the heart to place an ad in the Pennysaver for "Bunny. Free to a good home" even when your kids forget to feed her and then cry when you tell them that you are going have to get rid of her. Just don't do it. Get something ugly. I'm just sayin'.
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