Wednesday, 17 July 2013


People do things for all sorts of reasons.  They wear black armbands to signify respect for someone who has passed.  They drink way to much at a wake.  They write songs, they erect hideous gravestones.  I let my bunny sleep in my bed last night.

I suppose a little background information could help here.  I recently moved (again) to a house with a wonderful garden and pool and space and light and air.  I should also add that I am a bunny lover.  My husband and I spent our weekend doing bunny proofing.  We even installed a baby gate, so that our buns could not make their way to the road.

All this preparation and schlep was, however, repaid in a way that I really did not expect.  I found one of my bunnies in the pool yesterday morning.  There was no hope for rescue.  I held her for about an hour, swearing at the world for being a cruel and unfair place.  I wrapped her in a towel and dried her.  Stroked her.  Agonised.

Her friend, partner and father of her babies refused to eat for the rest of the day.  See, he way paying tribute.  Because hurt - and the willingness to show it - could also be a form of tribute.  

He was so sad that I refused to leave his side.  I paid tribute to my beautiful little girl bunny by letting her friend sleep in my bed.  Not that he wanted to sleep.  Playing, licking, running was more what he had in mind.

But, as mourning and sadness may last all night, joy arrived in the morning.  In the form of a renewed appetite.

Pikpik will get a new friend in time.  But for now.  We are all happily (with the occasional tear) remembering his friend.

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