As I mentioned in my “100 things about me,” I am not a furry pet lover. Actually, I enjoy other people’s furry beasts. They’re fun to visit. Having a dog or cat of my own…. not on my agenda. Which has become a thing around here. You see, the fiance’ was raised by the Queen of All Animal Lovers, a regular shelter volunteer and bunny foster mom. When I first visited her, she had two rabbits, a chinchilla and a Pit bull rescue dog running around the house free, plus a snake and some fish. When friends and family go out of town , she takes in every single dog, fish, and furry scamperer into her brood. The woman is Dr. Doolittle. And did I mention she raised the fiance’?
We have been debating a puppy for a long time. By debating, I mean that we both loudly state our positions for or against until we are sleeping in separate rooms and accusing each other of loving or hating animals more than one another. The guy really wants a dog something fierce. I am not altogether against the idea, but I think we need to wait until we have a place with more space and a yard bigger than a postage stamp. I have made it clear that I have no interest in adding thirty minute dog walks to my frantic mornings and exhausted evenings while he sleeps or is at work. I have offered to consider a smaller dog that would physically fit in our apartment, a calm sit-at-your-feet dog, a grown rescue dog. He is unbending- a rambunctious ball-playing puppy of the large variety is all he will consider. So, there is no dog.
Last week, the future mother-in-law ended up bringing home new bundles of controversy. Five of them. Five tiny black-and-white balls of the softest possible fur and cutest possible noses. Five baby bunnies that she is fostering until they are old enough to adopt out. I stopped by and scooped one out of the litter, and discovered that I can love furry things. Little bunny-licious furry things that curl up under your chin in the palm of your hand. It was bunny love at first sight.
I wrangled a Monday dinner invitation for the fiance’ and I to trick him into bunny love too. How could anyone resist their teeny tiny preciousness right? Unless that person had his mind set on a coonhound puppy. Apparently bunnies and coonhounds are not the same thing. To me the main differences are that bunnies don’t bite you constantly, howl all the time, and need dragged around the block in bad weather. To him the main difference is that he loves dogs not bunnies.
So, despite all of that, he pulled me in the dining room at the end of the night and said if I really wanted a bunny, we could have one. And my heart grew three sizes bigger and I swelled with bunny joy. Until I realized that I couldn’t accept the offer. If I was unbending on a dog, it wasn’t fair to turn on my girly charms to get a bunny. Even the cutest bunny that had ever lived, an itty bitty hippity hoppy angel from bunny heaven. Because, for better or worse, if he takes my feelings into account even though puppy breath makes him swoon, I need to do the same for tiny bunny perfection.
So for now, it’s the two of us and our beloved beta fish.
Anyone know how to teach a bunny to play fetch?