A Send Off
It’s been exactly a week since the day he went missing. A Thursday, a year and a day after he’d arrived in our home, he wasn’t anywhere to be found. The morning was rainy so I assumed he was hiding away from the water, but as the sun came out in the afternoon, I still didn’t see him, and when I looked in all of his usual hiding spots, he was nowhere to be found.
Unlike other pet bunnies, this one was wild at heart just like me. He had been found on the side of the road by a friend of a friend, dumped with all his belongings. And so we agreed to take him in. But he disliked the inside crate and he disliked the outside run. Sometimes he would climb inside the hutch we built him, but mostly he liked to roam the yard. His favorite hiding place was a hole, a deep one, that he’d dug directly under his hutch. Despite worries that he might get picked up by a hawk or an owl, that something from the forest right behind our house might come creeping in the yard to get him, I decided to let him roam free. He distrusted humans, though he learned to begrudgingly allow me to pet him every once in a while, and though he thoroughly hated being carried, he was relieved when we brought him inside to shelter him from strong weather. Otherwise, he was happiest when he was free in the yard. I supplemented his diet with rabbit food, timothy hay, and treats, but his favorite food was dandelions. He was a happy and stubborn little thing.
And so when he disappeared, like every parent I’ve ever met, I kept the secret, hoping against hope that my worst fears wouldn’t be confirmed. Or worse, that his disappearance would never turn up anything and we’d be left with a mysterious hole. Either way, I held it close to my heart and smiled through my worry for my daughter. But it had to come out eventually. That evening, we found out.
My neighbor helped us dig the hole, and we laid him to rest right next to the toilet garden, his second favorite hang-out spot. Though we aren’t sure what exactly happened, I was thankful for the opportunity to say goodbye.
I don’t regret letting him roam free, though I do wish we would have had him around for longer. But life is like that, or rather, death is always around the corner and so we must live our lives in a way that makes us smile through our tears when we do meet that finality.
This stubborn little rabbit reminded me of myself; a cute little thing who had trouble trusting after a broken heart, a soul determined to live life on his own terms, an independent babe who would occasionally accept help, but not too often. He reminded me that some scars don’t heal, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make the best out of what you’ve got. I learned to be patient with him the way I wish somebody had been patient with me, back in those days when I learned firsthand that even adults can’t always be trusted. And for my efforts, he began to relax around me. Not all the way. But enough.
He rests in the yard under what will soon be his favorite flowers now, but we’ll keep him in our hearts. He will remind us to keep fighting for our freedoms, to move slowly with those we don’t trust, to enjoy the wild sides of ourselves, to appreciate the dandelions.
Love you, Bull Bunny.
