Ode to a Bunny
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I am not sure where he was born, but April discovered him for sell in a Florida flea market. His price was discounted because of a cut on his back foot . Cost of one baby bunny: $11; Joy received: Priceless. Cuddles fit in the palm of my hand when I first met him and, although I had already hardened my heart against my daughter, April’s plan of bringing a bunny home during her college break that year, my hard heart melted when I held Cuddles in the palm of my hand and stroked his silky white fur and lop ears. His little pink nose twitched and, I could feel his tiny, fluttery heartbeat as he began the process of orienting himself to his new life with April.
April declared Cuddles my “gran-bun.” I thought she was being silly, but in due course I found myself enjoying all the joys and privileges of being the “gran-mama” including the bunny sitting, the cuddling and the pen cleaning. I would save my choicest lettuce and broccoli scraps for weekends when Cuddles and April were coming to visit. When Christmas came, I found myself purchasing yogurt drops, honey sticks and little rabbit toys for my gran-bun.
I could never resist teasing April about the “originality” of the name she had chosen for Cuddles, but it turned out to be an apt selection. April, always a daughter desirous of closeness and affection, would hold Cuddles for warmth , comfort and affection whether she was simply tired or stressed from all the demands of Med School, angry or hurt by someone, and for the bigger upsets in life like receiving the news that her Dad had lung cancer. She would lie close and snuggle with “Mr. Cuddles,” as I liked to call him, and draw strength and courage from her fluffy ball of love.
But Cuddle Bunny wasn’t just for sad times. April explained to me how Cuddles simply made her happy and gave her joy. The first time I saw Cuddles perform his “happiness dance,” I was amazed. He ran around the house like a whirling dervish with flourishes of hops and turns. The term “joie de vivre” comes to mind. Just by watching him, April and I were reminded how to experience the joy of living in the present moment.
Eventually, Cuddles was joined by Fuzzy (a black lop eared bunny) and April and I were able to learn that even in bunnies, distinct personalities emerge. Cuddles, always fearless and independent had to help Fuzzy (timid and shy) learn to trust. April was happy that her Cuddly Bunny had a companion and upgraded the pen to a bunny “condo.” We (especially April) were deep into anthropomorphism but April felt a deep understanding and communication with these wonderful pets, especially Cuddles, who – being her first – received her undisguised favoritism while all the time she cautioned me not to play favorites.
In the last few weeks, April told me that Cuddles had begun to display signs of illness and her Vet had given indications that it could be systemic. I knew I would need to remind April of the inevitable end that could be in sight, that death was just part of life. I, of course, would be sad but, April’s heart would be broken. So when the news came yesterday, August 10, that Cuddles had died, I found myself crying all afternoon and that I, unexpectedly, had a broken heart also.
So, goodbye, Mr. Cuddles. Thank you for blessing our life for five wonderful years with your incredible bunny-ness. I know your life was as good as any bunny could want because you were deeply loved and never ran out of carrots. You will always be in our heart and, I know you are hopping in the land of pure spirit and love where all good bunnies (and people) go.
