Bunny Love

"I can't wait to come over and play with your dog. I bet he's really cute. You better watch out, though. I may be provoked to steal him."

I stretched out my feet and leaned back into the wooden bench we were sitting on in my porch. I glanced at V and flashed him my most mischievous smile. All of a sudden, I remembered something.

"Oh, wait! You have to see my bunny!"

"Alright, alright. After I finish off this stick."

I was at my parents' home for Christmas break and we'd just spent the last six hours talking and smoking. It wasn't a surprise that we had run out of cigarettes by that time, so I let him savor the last stick. It was actually mine - he finished his an hour earlier and I figured he deserved it since his addiction was far worse than mine. Smoking can either prolong or shorten a conversation. Sometimes it's an easy way out of an uncomfortable situation. 'Oops, I've finished smoking. I have to go back inside now.' It's a perfectly valid excuse and no hard feelings are exchanged. In mine and V's case, it always encouraged conversation to drift off and well, never end.

"By the way, I heard from my Mom that my grandmother's condition is stable," I said.

"That's good to hear."

"My grandfather had an accident, though. I haven't been able to visit him as much since the driver got liver cancer."

"Well, I can offer you a ride this Saturday. I'll be visiting one of my grandmothers."

"Thanks."

We continued to talk long after he finished my last stick and before we knew it, it was 4 am. A very indecent time to head home, especially on foot. At the first sign of my nodding off, V called it a night. I went inside and he let himself out the gate.

The next morning, I woke up in the clothes I was wearing from the previous night. So much for hygiene. I usually wake up much earlier than I need to because I'm very photosensitive, but I managed to clock in almost eight hours of undisturbed sleep. It was 11 am and I got a text message from my brother asking if I wanted to catch a movie a little after lunch. My brother's room is upstairs, but our shameless sloth causes us to communicate with each other using our mobile phones. I reply and tell him that I just got up and would prefer to catch the next screening. I drag myself out of bed and make my way towards the kitchen.

While opening the fridge, I notice that my bunny's kennel wasn't there. Its absence slightly disturbed me, but I shrugged it off. 'That's good,' I thought. Our maid followed my advice and let him out so he could get some exercise and sunshine. I didn't see anything I wanted to eat, so I went to the dining room and grabbed some bread and peanut butter.

I've had my bunny for a little more than a month now. On my birthday, I came home to my apartment where I stayed when I had school and it was filled with friends who dropped by to surprise me. My friend, C came up to me and told me that I had to look for my gift. I poked around some odd places all over the living room and when it was clear that I couldn't find it, there was a small hint of panic and everyone started to help me look for it. There was a commotion near the wooden cabinet beside the sofa and I made my way there. I peeked behind the cabinet and saw something move. I squealed and picked it up. It was a beautiful black Netherland dwarf bunny. It's fur was soft and it was just the right size. I was in love with it. It was a little shaken when I took it, so I sat down and stroked it to calm it down.

It was one of the sweetest, most thoughtful gifts I'd ever been given. My friends knew how lonely I felt when I had to spend nights alone in my apartment and they decided to give me a little companion. I'd always wanted a pet rabbit, despite the fact that I wasn't a very good caregiver. I would be different this time, though. I'd pay more attention to it, I'd spoil it, I'd love it. Nothing beats love, right?

I named it Pete Wentz because I attended the Fall Out Boy concert a few days before receiving my little furry friend and because it was emo. Yes, the bunny was emo. He had a predilection for dark and dirty corners, he was not fond of people and he absolutely abhorred human touch. Emo. For a time, he would do nothing but bite, kick and scratch me whenever I tried to pick him up. I was not discouraged. I knew it would take time for him to get used to me, so I continued to hand feed him and pet him when he would allow me to. On days when I would get the Murasaki Blues, I'd place him on my lap and played with his fur until he got antsy and started to bite. For a time, people thought I practiced self-mutilation because of the many scratches marked on my inner forearms.

There were plenty of things I had to know about taking care of a rabbit. My friend, R was the queen of all things furry and gave me bunny spoiling tips. My family really isn't a pets kind of family. Yeah, we've had animals in the house, but we're not really used to taking care of them. Only my eldest sister was good with pets. She's had birds, guinea pigs, cats, dogs, rabbits, and even a potbellied pig. I tried to take care of my own pets. I've had two rabbits in the past, but neither of them made it. I asked my ex to get me another one, but he refused and said that it would just die. 'It'll suffer in your care,' he'd say. He was probably right, but there were just days when I wanted to come home have a little animal waiting for me to arrive.

I polished off the peanut butter sandwich I made and finished watching Ellen on TV. I glanced at my mobile phone to check the time and realized that I had just enough time to peel yesterday's clothing off and take a shower. About an hour before the movie, I checked my email while waiting for my hair to dry. I heard my brother's door open and close from upstairs. As big as my house is, there never seems to be any privacy. We could all be holed up in our respective rooms, yet whispering into the phone would still be some kind of necessity if you're being secretive. I probably had more privacy in my apartment and it was no bigger than my parents' master bedroom.

My parents left a few weeks ago in a rush because my Mom was told that my grandmother was in the ICU. I had known that her condition was far from stable but it never occurred to me just how serious it was. Grave disappointment came over my mother's face when I declined to visit her in the US where she was hospitalized. My mother couldn't comprehend my decision except for the reason that I barely knew my grandmother who lived in the US while I was growing up in the Philippines. I thought that I would come to see her the moment she recovered and came back to carry on with her planned visit before her illness. Later on, I would regret this decision when the news of her passing came shortly after New Year's.

In the meantime, I took up temporary residence in my parents' room because it was near the kitchen and dining room. My other brother moved out about two weeks ago, so all of a sudden, there were only two residents in my five-bedroom house. From his room, I could hear his footsteps as he made his way down our grand staircase. I was already looking at the door before he opened it.

"You getting ready?"

"I just need to pick out some clothes and then I'll be ready. What time are we going?"

"As soon as you're ready."

"Okay, I'll just finish checking my mail."

"Alright."

He closed the door and I refocused my attention on my laptop monitor. I was about to click on the fifth to the last email when he reopened the door.

"By the way, you know what happened to your rabbit, right?"

I paused for a moment.

I had a dream last night. It's true. I dreamt that after V smoked his last cigarette, we went inside to have a look at Pete. He stayed inside a dog's kennel because the cage that my friends bought for him was in my apartment. I had intended for him to stay in a kennel whenever I was at my parents' house  and for him to stay in the cage when I would go back to the apartment. I opened the cage and found his tiny black body lying on it's side. Even at the most ungodly hours when I would decide to check on Pete, I always found him awake. He never seemed to go to sleep. I went into shock and stroked him. He remained completely still. I cried.

The image of his unmoving body lying on wet newspapers inside that dark kennel returned to my mind. My brother stood awkwardly at the door, unsure of what to do or say. I shut my laptop off and stood up.

I was going back to my apartment the following week. I didn't know what I was going to do when I'd see his brand new cage without him in it.