Hoppy New Year!

Last night, I found out that just because Hemingway loves playing with my vacuum cleaner hose, that doesn't mean he wants me to use it to suck off his loose fur.

Poor Hemingway is molting something fierce this week. He looks so raggedy and has loose pieces of fur sticking out all over the place. He also hates being brushed. So when I was vacuuming around his pen and he was having fun playing with the hose, I said, "Hmm...I wonder." Well, after sucking off one loose chunk with the vacuum, Hemingway bolted to the corner of his X-pen and stomped his foot for the rest of the night.

Somebunny is getting bribed with extra papaya tabs to try and get him to love Mama again. Sorry, big guy!

Fitzi, Hemingway, Alex and I hope that you have a wonderful New Year!

Rest In Peace, Drake Greetis

I learned today that Drake Greetis has passed away. Drake was an incredible bunny rabbit who was down on his luck and endured mind-boggling mistreatment before he found his way to the Red Door Shelter and eventually into the home of the shelter's vice president, Toni.

I was fortunate enough to meet Drake at the Red Door's most recent Walk for the Animals. He was there, along with his lady, April, greeting walkers. He let me hold him, and in my arms he relaxed and snuggled like only a bunny who is truly loved can.

Drake was so fortunate to come to live in Toni's home. She's kind, giving, enthusiastic and will do absolutely anything for her bunny rabbits (and other animals, for that matter). Though his life had a sad beginning, Drake knew that he was loved and surrounded by admirers. I'm so happy I got the chance to spend some time with this gentle giant.

My Bunnies Save Me Every Day

I just read this article in USA Today and immediately headed over here to write a reaction. You should really read it for yourself before you continue reading what I have to say. Go ahead, I'll wait for you.

Do you need a tissue? I did. That article left me thinking about how much my rabbits have helped me through since coming into my life.

I've always tried to keep this blog upbeat, lighthearted and breezy and infuse it with humor, but I also believe that in order to appreciate the humor in a situation, you need to know and appreciate the dark side of life.

I wouldn't begin to compare what I've gone through to what Ruby Angel's owner has endured. Comparatively, I've been fortunate. I've always had a roof over my head. I have a caring family. No man I've loved has ever raised a hand to me, let alone to one of my pets (though you can bet that if someone tried, it would be the last thing he did - at least with an intact skeletal system).

My parents bought Fitzi for me when I was 22. Over the years, she's been by my side through a wonderful relationship that went sour (I should add that she never liked the guy and often bared her teeth at him - maybe I should trust her judgment more). She wound up covered in tears while I held her after both of my grandmothers died in a short period of time. When work stressed me out, she made me smile. When one terrible night cost me my best friend and fractured another close relationship, her fur and soft heartbeat were the only things I could stand to feel against my skin.

Since childhood, I've suffered from frequent nightmares. It's always the same nightmare, and it plays out in black and white while the rest of my dreams are in color. In my nightmare, I'm running down an alley away from someone pursuing me. I never see the person who is chasing me, I only hear them breathing heavily. Then they catch up to me, plunge a knife into my back and I die. Then I wake up.

I can't tell you how many times I've woken up from this dream and grabbed Hemingway from his pen. Hemingway is big and round and soft, and his blue eyes look at me and say, "What's wrong? It can't be anything that a piece of papaya won't fix."

There isn't anything I wouldn't do for my little "family." There have been weeks I've eaten ramen noodles while they've had organic romaine hearts, when I've shelled out money for timothy hay while waiting a few days to mail my cable bill.

Maybe that sounds crazy, but having pets means that you're responsible for another living thing's life. My rabbits didn't choose to come live with me, I asked them - and in doing so, I made an unspoken promise to be there for them. And if I need to make sacrifices to ensure that these furry little lives are well cared for, I will - just like Ruby Angel's owner wrapped her bunny in her only coat and shivered in the cold.

For those of you who are tempted to roll your eyes and say, "It's just a rabbit," I ask you this - do you have somebody in your life who will offer you unconditional love and never pass judgment? Do you have somebody you can reach for after a long day at work, who won't ask questions and just let you hold their warm body against yours?

If you do, and that warm body happens to belong to a human, that's wonderful - I wish I had that, too. But I'm willing to wager that the love I receive from Fitzi, Hemingway and Alex is every bit as sweet.

Hoppy Holidays from Our Warren to Yours

Alexandria says, "Putting a cat toy on my head does not turn me into the Heat Miser from The Year Without a Santa Claus. It does, however, turn me into a bunny who wants to pee on your stupid couch."


Hemingway says, "Mom should have taken into account when she bought me a scarf that rabbits don't really have necks."


Fitzi says, "Yep, I'm perky and pretty in my princessy pink hat. I'm so glad I'm not wearing a ball on my head like Alexandria."

Bunny Therapy

I've been feeling a bit under the weather lately. I don't have any specific symptoms, I'm just really tired and run down. Naps didn't help. Tea and orange juice didn't help. Complaining about it didn't help. Here's what did:

As far as I can tell, bunny snuggles solve just about all of life's problems.