Leaving my rabbits Reese and Mindy with a sitter has always made me a bit uneasy. I worried about disrupting my bunnies’ routines. I worried they would miss me. I also worried about their well-being in general. Now, with the two Rabbit Hemorrhagic Disease Virus outbreaks (RHDV1 and RHDV2) and the COVID-19 pandemic, the whole environment of rabbit care has shifted. I have a new set of criteria to make sure my bunnies stay safe and healthy when I can’t be with them.

Two years ago, I was busy. It was the middle of my senior year of high school and I was juggling AP classes and college applications while continuing with extracurriculars. Despite all the busyness, I made time to engage my love for rabbits. Every Saturday, I looked forward to seeing the many bunny faces at House Rabbit Society Headquarters in Richmond, California, where I volunteered. The smell of hay drifted in the air as I walked through the doors, excited to see rabbits newly arrived, and check on those who were still there from the week prior. 

With only experience caring for cats, birds, dogs, and fish, I recently fostered and then adopted a rabbit from House Rabbit Society whom I named Bonbon. With my intense admiration for animals, it was a long-overdue decision. As much as I wanted to rescue a bunny, my primary hesitation revolved around cohabitation with my cats. Never having cared for a rabbit, I was trepidatious about introducing one to my six-cat brood. Proceeding with caution, I decided to foster the adorable bunny for one month. Just over three weeks into the trial period, my heart ached at the thought of returning him. I was officially attached. Now, I had the daunting task of making both the cats and the rabbit comfortable and happy in my home.

My most treasured photograph of Finnegan is one I captured during his midday nap on the cool tile floor in our upstairs bathroom. Technically, it’s not a great photo. It doesn’t follow the rule of thirds, it isn’t very well-framed, and I somehow managed to nail the focus exactly where I didn’t want it: the shower curtain. Even so, it’s the photo of him I cherish most, and the one I share when people ask me what it’s like to live with a house rabbit. I was honored he felt comfortable enough in our home to relax and claim territory, and I took that photo so I can always remember his wonderfully quirky personality. We still refer to that bathroom in our old house as Finnegan’s. 

Late last year, I was contacted about a bunny named Blue. Blue was a seven-month-old, white lion-head rabbit, with red eyes. Blue and her bonded mate, Swiss, were part of a rescue effort called The October 45.

In October of 2019, 45 baby bunnies were left on the doorstep of a local rescue here in Asheville, North Carolina, during the night. They were all huddled in boxes when the staff found them the next morning. The rescue quickly had them examined by shelter medical staff, scheduled their spay and neuters, and sent them to foster homes.

Swiss and Blue, at four months old, were living with a wonderful foster mom, when the unthinkable happened. Swiss died suddenly. A necropsy was performed on Swiss but had no results on the cause of death. Little Blue went into deep mourning, and we were worried she would mourn herself to death.

I never knew that ten pounds could change my life; ten pounds that were the sum total of two small rabbits. One spunky, highly opinionated, and fearless. The other, slightly grumpy, food-motivated and adorably clumsy. All it took was two small rabbits to make me unreasonably happy, scared to death and devastated by a grief that I didn’t know was possible. They were ten pounds of love that I will carry for the rest of my life. They were my rabbits, Snicket and Boo.

While living in Miami for 10 years, the prospect of evacuating was omnipresent from June until September. After I moved from hurricane-prone Florida to the Northeast United States, my rabbit emergency kit became a travel kit.

I have a confession. I have a soft spot for “naughty” bunnies. I gravitate toward the bunnies whom others fear. At the local shelter where I volunteer, I was asked if I would foster a bunny who bites. Enter: Oreo.