the house bunny

I love bunnies!

I think they're the cutest animal that ever walked the Earth. Well, probably next to unicorns. Nothing can trump unicorns. Except for the phoenix but that's just a myth so it doesn't count.

Anyway, I had a pet rabbit when I was three years old. It was an albino - fluffy white fur all over its fat body, and bloodshot eyes. Although I think it wasn't exactly bloodshot. It was more pink than red.

The pet was a gift from my favorite aunt for my birthday. I remember waking up and running towards my desk as I saw my presents on it, including a cage. And inside the cage was this cute, tiny rabbit sleeping soundly. I took the cage and brought it downstairs to show everyone my new pet, Rabbit. Creative, yes? I was three for Christ's sake.

Rabbit and I became really close. I remember how he would follow me around the house on his hoppy legs. And how he would put his twitchy nose closer whenever I reach for his head. I made sure that he was always clean and healthy. I fed him all sorts of greens and of course, carrots. Hmmm. That's probably the reason why I never got accustomed to eating vegetables because he got my share of those leafy things.

One afternoon after coming home from playing kick ball, my mom nonchalantly informed of the untimely demise of Rabbit.

Time slowed down, if not fully stopped for everyone but myself. I feel like I've been doused with cold water. I accidentally dropped the glass I'm holding as I ran in slow motion towards his spot. What greeted me though was an empty, open cage. My eyes began to well up as I realize that Rabbit is really dead. And then I broke down and cried.

But that's not what happened.

I put the glass back on the table after drinking from it, and then asked my mom how Rabbit died. She said that an ant bit him. I wanted to laugh. I think I did laugh. An ant bit him? Ridiculous. But it was true. Rabbit was indeed dead. And it was because of those damn ants.

I fell into a three-minute stupor as I absent-mindedly watch my uncle wrap Rabbit in newspaper and place him inside a shoe box. They suggested that we bury him in the chapel near us. I watched silently as Rabbit's body was put one foot underground. After the hole was covered up, I placed a cross made from the sticks of a walis ting-ting on the dark soil.

And that's how I remember Rabbit, my fluffy, hoppy friend.

I swear I'm not making this up just so I can talk about bunnies. I really had one. This time, it's no fiction.

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POSTSCRIPT. Now I'm eager to get a new pet or something. Hem hem. And I think hoppy is not a word. Or is it.