Petey and I bonded immediately. It was a low point in my life—my marriage had fallen apart and I was struggling to reclaim some measure of happiness. I stopped in a pet store because I thought petting a few animals would give me comfort.
Petey was in a cage all by himself—and although I wasn’t all that familiar with rabbits, I was drawn to him. I held him and petted him—he had the softest fur. When I placed him back in his cage, he hopped over to me wanting to be petted again. So, a few minutes later, I left the store with a cage, various supplies and a precious rabbit.
When we got home, I set up his cage and let him explore my apartment. He was cautious but incredibly curious—he hopped about, sniffing everything. This soon led to rubbing his chin on things (marking his possessions) and racing through the apartment. I quickly learned that this rabbit loved his freedom—he litter-trained quickly, an important first step in unrestricted apartment access. Accepting that he wasn’t allowed to chew my furniture took a little longer—Petey could be a bit single-minded—but it only took about a week for him to decide that complete apartment freedom was more important that nibbling my furniture—especially since he had so many approved chewables.
Even though he was stubborn, Petey was a sweetheart—he always wanted to be wherever I was. Some of my hardest days were the days when he followed me to the door as I was leaving for work and he lifted those floppy ears, trying to get me to play hooky. Some of my best days were the days when I was on the couch reading—and petting him as he sat beside me.
Petey died in my arms Saturday evening after a long battle with bladder problems. He brought me much happiness, laughter and comfort. Our time together was much too short and he will be missed.
