First You Get the Bunny . . .

Oh man. Friday was a sad, sad day.

Lately, there has been a void in my heart. When it comes to matters of the heart, there's very little you can do using the analytic side of brain. The hole is there when you think of it, the hole is there when you don't think of it, and no logical solution can fix it.

So I went to the only place you can go when there's a hole in your heart that you don't know how to fix.

That's right. The Human Society.

It was there that I discovered Bun Bun. Had I gone to the Humane Society at any other time, I may not have met Bun Bun. But the lady working the small animal room was a certified rabbit advocate and she wanted nothing more than to see me walk away with my perfect match in small, twitchy, rabbit-eared form. We looked at a few different rabbits, a sickly angora, a far too large brown rabbit called Thunder, a white, pink-eyed Easter bunny with a penchant for kicking. Then she took me to the back room to show me a few more. There were two back rooms actually. The first one contained a couple nice ones, but I wasn't convinced. It was then that she took me to see Bun Bun. Despite the fact that Bun Bun was given an annoying, yet oddly fitting name, I immediately fell in love with her. She plugged the hole in my heart. Bun Bun was a mini Rex, velvety soft, with grayish brown fur and large dark eyes. The rabbit advocate escorted us back to the front room where we sat in a small pen and I held her in my arms, feeling her heart slow as she got comfortable in my lap. Ugh. It's still too much.

I put her on 24-hour hold, mind racing as I pondered the perfect rabbit home, the various trips I would need to make to procure the various rabbit supplies, the sudden changes that would occur in my life to adapt to the responsibility of a rabbit in my life, and then the truth really came home. I would need to call my landlord and make sure he wouldn't evict us if he found a rabbit in our home.

I made Sam do it. I couldn't stand the disappointment of hearing "no" once again. And of course, that's we heard. Denied yet again. To make matters worse, she's already gone. Somebody else has my rabbit.