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Sunday, October 26, 2008
I was in the tub when I heard the squeals coming from the living room. "Tavie, there's a bunny out here!" "What, a real one?" I dried hastily, threw on my pajamas, went out to meet the nameless bunny who lives next door. Yes, nameless. She belongs to Andrew, our young new neighbor two doors down. I saw him from our living room window, sitting cross-legged and trying to herd her back into his apartment. She was too happy to be hopping around on the damp cement of our outdoor hallway, though. I put on a bathrobe and Kirsten and I went out to help. We learned that Andrew moved in two weeks ago, that he's had the bunny for a year and a half, that he, like Kirsten, loves Dexter - they spent most of the time talking about that show while I took my turn on the cement, cross-legged, talking softly to Bunny. I stayed very still and a couple times she hopped up to me, sniffed me with her wiggly little nose, and almost climbed into my lap. I was 8 years old again, heart melting for a rabbit. I wanted a rabbit so badly at that age. I scolded Andrew for never having named her, and suggested "Dex" as a name - he loves the show, and she lives on the deck - it's good, right? At some point we ended up bringing Progo out to meet Andrew and Bunny, and the obligatory "Tortoise and the Hare" joke was made. Kirsten told me later that there was a bit of a meet-cute yesterday, wherein she ran into him with an armload of groceries and he held open the door and introduced himself. What movie is this, again? He seems a very nice fellow, our young new friend, but I wonder what kind of a person owns a rabbit that he's never named, and what kind of a rabbit-owner has never read Watership Down? |