Last semester, a friend of mine developed an allergy to her pet rabbit, and gave him to me. His name was Playboy and he was an Albino New Zealand rabbit, approx. 7 or 8 months old
.
Playboy had spent most of his life growing up in a little crate most of the day locked up, and the rest of the time in someone's bedroom. I took him and gave him three times the space to run around in, in the form of a cage I made the size of under my twin sized dorm bed. When I was in, he was allowed to roam my 12x12 room without hindrance, as I had bunny-proofed the room so he couldn't hurt or get hurt by anything.
While he was with me, he gained healthy weight, stopped being so fidgety and anti-social, and had actually warmed up to me, so much so that in the morning he would hop in my lap to be petted. He seemed happy, was well-adjusted, and even was learning new tricks.
Two weeks from the end of the semester, my RA found out I had a rabbit in my room, and asked me to find a new home for him. One of my friends, Eric, offered to take him for the remaining part of the semester.
Eric lived in the same dorm building as I did, but a different floor, and was quite certain he could keep Playboy there for two weeks without difficulty. After some discussion, I agreed to the arrangement, and brought all of Playboy's things, his box, his litter, his cage, shampoo, hairbrush, nail cutters, toys, food, hay, etc., to Eric's room.
A week later, I talked to my RA, who said that she only had told me to get rid of the rabbit for inspections, and that, if I wished, I could move him back into my room for the rest of the week.
So I go to Eric and ask when would be a good time for me to stop by to pick up Playboy to which he replied that he had given my rabbit to a friend of his, named Kylene, who, sensing that Playboy was being 'mistreated' by me, asked his original owner, the one with the allergies, if she could have him.
His original owner had said yes, under the guise that Playboy was being mistreated by me.
Kylene took my rabbit and gave him to her roommate, who took him to a farm in Saginaw, because, according to her, rabbits, even those raised inside and in solitude their whole lives, must be allowed to roam outside with a completely strange warren, and this could be accomplished at this farm, which raised rabbits for whatever reason.
I never saw my rabbit again, all because someone who had no knowledge whatsoever of how I was treating him, or how he lived normally, or even what would happen to him after the semester was over, thought she knew better than I did what should happen to him.
Now, a dorm room isn't the optimal place for a rabbit, but who is to say that I wouldn't have brought him to my parents' house, where he could have lived in a happy little hutch in their unused garage? who's to say I wouldn't have gotten an apartment the next year (as I was considering) and let him have the run of the place? and WHO THE HELL COULD EVER BELIEVE THAT I WOULD MISTREAT ANYTHING, especially a pet!?
Needless to say, I was distraught. Just the thought of him would make me start to cry. I begged for him to come back. I even prayed. As the days went on, I slipped into a horrible depression. I blamed myself. I almost failed exams. I worried nonstop about what was happening to my poor little bunny. Because he was mine. He was almost like a child to me.
But when the week was over, I knew I'd never get him back, and had to accept that and move on. I to this day have no idea where he is or how he's being treated. I've had to put the whole situation out of my mind. A few people even suggested I get a new rabbit to replace him, but I knew it'd never be the same. So I tried to forget that I ever had a rabbit.
Well, last night I had a dream that I found him almost dead in a cardboard box at a grocery store. The box was filled with rabbit food and waste, as if someone thought that so long as he had food, he would survive.
But he wasn't dead. He was just almost dead. The image in my head of his emaciated body, the soft feel of his fur as I checked to see if he was breathing, the look in his pink eyes when he saw me, and I woke up crying.
And now the pain starts all over again.
.
Playboy had spent most of his life growing up in a little crate most of the day locked up, and the rest of the time in someone's bedroom. I took him and gave him three times the space to run around in, in the form of a cage I made the size of under my twin sized dorm bed. When I was in, he was allowed to roam my 12x12 room without hindrance, as I had bunny-proofed the room so he couldn't hurt or get hurt by anything.
While he was with me, he gained healthy weight, stopped being so fidgety and anti-social, and had actually warmed up to me, so much so that in the morning he would hop in my lap to be petted. He seemed happy, was well-adjusted, and even was learning new tricks.
Two weeks from the end of the semester, my RA found out I had a rabbit in my room, and asked me to find a new home for him. One of my friends, Eric, offered to take him for the remaining part of the semester.
Eric lived in the same dorm building as I did, but a different floor, and was quite certain he could keep Playboy there for two weeks without difficulty. After some discussion, I agreed to the arrangement, and brought all of Playboy's things, his box, his litter, his cage, shampoo, hairbrush, nail cutters, toys, food, hay, etc., to Eric's room.
A week later, I talked to my RA, who said that she only had told me to get rid of the rabbit for inspections, and that, if I wished, I could move him back into my room for the rest of the week.
So I go to Eric and ask when would be a good time for me to stop by to pick up Playboy to which he replied that he had given my rabbit to a friend of his, named Kylene, who, sensing that Playboy was being 'mistreated' by me, asked his original owner, the one with the allergies, if she could have him.
His original owner had said yes, under the guise that Playboy was being mistreated by me.
Kylene took my rabbit and gave him to her roommate, who took him to a farm in Saginaw, because, according to her, rabbits, even those raised inside and in solitude their whole lives, must be allowed to roam outside with a completely strange warren, and this could be accomplished at this farm, which raised rabbits for whatever reason.
I never saw my rabbit again, all because someone who had no knowledge whatsoever of how I was treating him, or how he lived normally, or even what would happen to him after the semester was over, thought she knew better than I did what should happen to him.
Now, a dorm room isn't the optimal place for a rabbit, but who is to say that I wouldn't have brought him to my parents' house, where he could have lived in a happy little hutch in their unused garage? who's to say I wouldn't have gotten an apartment the next year (as I was considering) and let him have the run of the place? and WHO THE HELL COULD EVER BELIEVE THAT I WOULD MISTREAT ANYTHING, especially a pet!?
Needless to say, I was distraught. Just the thought of him would make me start to cry. I begged for him to come back. I even prayed. As the days went on, I slipped into a horrible depression. I blamed myself. I almost failed exams. I worried nonstop about what was happening to my poor little bunny. Because he was mine. He was almost like a child to me.
But when the week was over, I knew I'd never get him back, and had to accept that and move on. I to this day have no idea where he is or how he's being treated. I've had to put the whole situation out of my mind. A few people even suggested I get a new rabbit to replace him, but I knew it'd never be the same. So I tried to forget that I ever had a rabbit.
Well, last night I had a dream that I found him almost dead in a cardboard box at a grocery store. The box was filled with rabbit food and waste, as if someone thought that so long as he had food, he would survive.
But he wasn't dead. He was just almost dead. The image in my head of his emaciated body, the soft feel of his fur as I checked to see if he was breathing, the look in his pink eyes when he saw me, and I woke up crying.
And now the pain starts all over again.
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
allied:
Awww, sweetie I'm really sorry that happened to you. Wow, I had something I was going to say about this year's election and how I liked your sentiments, but now all that seems silly. Good luck; I hope you feel better soon.
mikael:
rabbits=rodents=vermin. They don't belong anywhere except in a predator's stomach.