Goodbye Rabbit

In my home full of animals, there lives a rabbit.  We call him bunny.  Sadly, bunny can not make the trip to DC with us and I must find a new home for him.

In my segment on saying goodbye to people and places of Mississippi, I would like to use today to say goodbye to bunny.  

Dear Bunny,

I knew when I first laid eyes on you, that you were too small to be away from your mother, and so, in a moment of impulse, I promptly rescued you from some unforeseen terrible fate at the hands of those teenage boys eyeing you at the pet shop.

You were so small that the little boys I nannied kept calling you a hamster, yes you were that small.  We didn't think you were going to make it for a while, but with lots of TLC and good food, you were good as new in no time.

There are truly no words to describe your cuteness, just squeals and gritted teeth.  I'm sorry that Hitler never met you, because I'm sure if he had, he would have been struck dead immediately by the rays of cute that emanate from your floppy little ears.

We were all a little worried at first that you would be squished by a foot or a paw while running around the house, but you were a quick learner and it wasn't long before you were laying on the living room floor right beside Jack and watching TV.

The first time you jumped up on the couch beside me, I wondered what you were up to, and then you hopped onto my lap and settled in for an ear scratching.  As if that wasn't cute enough, I remember when we learned that you love popcorn.  You came hopping around the corner of the couch and stuck your nose right into the bowl; you swiped a piece and ran behind the couch to eat it only to come right back for more when you were finished.

You provided this family with side-splitting laughs when you would fly down the hallway at breakneck speeds and then jump straight up in the air about two feet, click your lucky feet together and then take off again.  

Thank you for allowing Elsbeth to pull your hair as she learned to pet you gently, and thank you for never biting her even when her pats were a little too enthusiastic.  You have taught me patience and gentleness, and most importantly you made me smile, and I thank you for that.  

I am going to terribly miss your furry body following me everywhere around this house with your ears dragging the ground.  I promise to make sure you go to a home that will love you as much as we do.  I hope that you live a long and happy life; I will think of you often and smile.

Love,

Jillian

PS. I forgive you for pooping ALL OVER my shoes.