The woman who owned the bunny finally came and claimed it today. Few words were spoken as she didn’t speak English and unfortunately my Spanish is far from conversational (note to self, take a Spanish class). She said his name was Speedy. A young boy was with her, who I assumed was her son. I expected him to be happier to see the little bun bun, or at least say thank you. But, they just grabbed the bunny and waved good-bye.
It’s been interesting watching my mind for the last 48 hours or so. First there was this urgency to “save” the bunny. When it comes to animals, I’m definitely a rescuer. People, not so much. I get very focused and very efficient when there is an animal in need. We had the little creature set up in comfortable bunny quarters and had signs posted in the neighborhood within 2 hours of finding him. Next came the attachment. Boy, did that creep up on me fast. Within 24 hours I was pretty well convinced that no one could take care of and love that bunny the way I could. By the end of 48 hours, I was ready to call the woman and say the bunny escaped, and keep him as my own. Yet, as someone reminded me there was probably a heart broken child out there who was missing his bunny (yeah, and your point is?).
From my attachment to the bunny, then arose some other negative minds regarding the people who lost the bunny. Since the bunny wasn’t housebroken, it was clear this wasn’t an indoor bunny, and what kind of people could keep a poor bunny outside all the time? And how irresponsible are they that they let the bunny escape? And as much as I hate to admit it, some of my thoughts were a bit racist. Or were they? There are a lot of people who live in that house, and they have a dog who constantly barks, can they be fit guardians for such a precious creature as MY bunny? Oh right. Not my bunny. Right.
The attachment itself can feel somewhat warm and fuzzy (like the bunny) and disguise itself as love. Yet, such ugliness arose in my mind because of that attachment. Realistically, maybe it’s not the best home for the bunny. He probably would have a longer, healthier life with me. But, what do I know? And who am I to judge? All I can do is wish that family and their sweet little bunny well.