Thursday, May 3, 2012

Pet the Bunny

I only get nostalgic a couple times a year. Does that make me sound a bit heartless? Hmm. Maybe I should start again?
I don't get nostalgic very often. (Not really any better, but I'll continue anyway). Certain holidays and specific dates really get me thinking. Mother's Day is fast approaching. It's a day I remember both my Mom and my Mother. My Mother passed away in 2000 after a long battle with Multiple Sclerosis. My Mom lives about 10 minutes from me. I love them both dearly, but that is not why I'm writing.

Confession time: I am OBSESSED with rabbits!

If you look at my stuffed animal collection (which is quite extensive), you will notice a trend: Rabbits. Evey shape, size and color you can imagine. Some of them sing. Some are obnoxiously big and fluffy. A few were given to me and mean something. Others were purchased for no reason. Some were gifts. One was actually won in one of those impossible claw machines. Others have some kind of weird thing they do like the one that has a button you push and the head jumps. Weird, I know. I guess I should add some pics to this post to show you them, but for now you can trust they are all there.

I don't carry a lucky rabbit's foot because personally, I think they are just a smudge creepy (to each his own though).

Recently, a friend of mine posted a need for someone to take her rabbit. She didn't have the time to care for it anymore and the poor bunny needed a home. I jumped at the chance to take it.Yes, I know rabbits are cute and cuddly, but I wanted this rabbit in the worst way. He was black, white and fluffy. I named him Pet. Yes, Pet the Bunny. *Insert laugh here* 

I finally had to stop and think about it. Why was I so obsessed with rabbits? Why did I feel like I needed to have this one? Why do I have so many stuffed bunnies? Why did this rabbit just poop on my rug?

So, I thought about it. Then it hit me.


When I was younger and living with my Mother (before I was put in foster care), I had a black and white rabbit named Cookie. I loved that thing. We had a bunch of rabbits, cats and even some chickens. With three other siblings in the house, I was hard-pressed to find something that was only for me. Cookie was mine, though, all mine.
I was home sick from school one day when I was 5. It was probably around the time all four of us caught chicken pox (yup, at the same time!). I was miserable. Completely and utterly miserable. I was sick and in just the worst mood. By this time, my Mother had begun to walk with a limp. She told me to wait by the back door and I watched as she hobbled across the driveway and into the garage. She emerged holding something, but I couldn't see what it was. She got to the door, opened it, held out Cookie, smiled and said "Go ahead, Doll. Pet the bunny."
I remember being overly elated to see my rabbit! It didn't hit me until I was older just how much strength it took my Mother to get out to the garage and back. Such love from a Mother to her child. I cry as I write this. I miss my Mother and I am incredibly grateful for moments like this to be able to remember and share.
As I look at Pet and see his coloring, he is the exact opposite of Cookie. Pet is mostly white with black markings. Cookie was black with white markings.
With all their differences, my Mother's words are the same ones I said to my daughter when Pet came to us. "Go ahead, Mini. Pet the bunny."

1 comment:

  1. Hi! Stopping by from MBC. Great blog!
    Have a nice day!