A warm and fuzzy story

Standard

For the last week or so I’ve been trying to work on a somewhat serious posting, but after writing that initial surge of words, it has gone nowhere. It just sits in my drafts box and taunts me.  So, for the sake of putting something up on these ol’ internet tubes, I think it’s high time for an update on things cute and fluffy in LazyBuddhist’s world:

The visitor bunny:  the story of the little visitor bunny ended with me dropping the bunny off at the Berkeley Animal Shelter in the loving and caring arms of  Annie, the  lady who takes care of the cats and bunnies.  She had assured me that he would sent off to the rabbit rescue shelter within a week.  This was confirmed by Judy, the kind hearted rabbit rescue lady.

So, after a week, I call the rabbit rescue place to see if the visitor bunny had arrived.  Judy wasn’t in so I was stuck talking with her assistant, Amber.  What can I say? I don’t like Amber.  She doesn’t strike me as a great employee (she messed up Mr. Binkles’ first boarding reservation there) and she always has this tone on the phone like she’d rather be out smoking a cigarette.  In fact, I dislike Amber so much I have actually hung up when I heard her petulant voice answer the phone rather than Judy’s charming southern drawl.  (Yeah, despite being 50 I can still act like I’m 15, so what?)  But, this time I just wanted a quick reassurance that the visitor bunny arrived as expected. “Can you be more specific?” she complained “there are a lot of black and white rabbits here.”  I could hear the roll of her eyes.  “He should have arrived within the last week” I explained trying to sound pleasant despite my urge to slap the sass out of her.  “We haven’t had any new bunnies arrive since about two weeks ago” she answered with less attitude.  “He might have gotten adopted at the shelter. That happens sometimes.”

That weekend I stopped by the Berkeley Animal Shelter to see if I could talk to Annie.  The place was a madhouse.  It looks like they are working with the barest of budgets as they appear to be understaffed.  But, despite the fact that they seem busy as hell, you can tell these are good people who are trying their best under difficult circumstances.  When I asked for Annie, I was pointed towards the back where all the animals are held.  I found her by the two rabbits they had for adoption. With the constant chorus of dogs barking (over half of whom are Pit Bulls), I don’t know how anyone can think.  She vaguely recalled meeting me before. Finally, it dawned upon her and her expression changed suddenly to that of someone who misplaced her keys.  “Oh, right!  Where is that bunny?  I remember taking him in, but I don’t remember adopting him out. Oh my!”   She suggested I talk to Dave, one of the overwhelmed front desk employees to find out what happened to the little guy.

It took a bit of searching, but Dave eventually found the little guy’s record. “That was Clarence. He was adopted a couple of days after you brought him in” he said matter-of-factly. Annie seemed a bit surprised  and even a little disturbed  as I assume she is responsible for screening the potential rabbit adopters. I was disturbed too knowing the little guy went out the door without the potential adopter being vetted.  That was the main reason I wanted some guarantees that he would go to rabbit rescue because I know Judy would  make sure that he went to a good home and would be properly cared for and not put outside in a hutch to be left alone and ignored once some child has grown bored with it. Annie said she would follow up on the little guy and would give me a call.

A couple of days later I got a call from Annie with the good news.  The little guy got adopted by a rabbit savvy woman who also had a spayed female indoor bunny.  She had done a home visit and saw for herself that he was in very good hands. I could hear in her voice she was very happy and touched by the little guy’s good fortune.  I got a little verklempt when I first heard that message. In fact, I get a little verklempt every time I have replayed for anyone who may be interested.   I’m just ridiculously happy for the little guy.

Advertisements

9 responses »

  1. Yes, my kudos go out to you, as well, LB, for your follow through. We’ve rescued strays several times, at least twice clearly dogs that had escaped a backyard, but once the shelter people came and got them, I didn’t follow up. And you’re absolutely right about how bunnies get neglected.

    One of the networks is running a TV special about a dog named Christmas. We have a neighbor who named a dog Christmas once–the puppy was showered with love for a day or two then abandoned for 22-23 hours of the day, and barked in the adjoining backyard at any movement or sound. To my mind, Christmas is the worst name for a dog. It smacks of high occasion for a child and little follow-up or responsibility, except as another begrudging task for a mother.

    Verklempt! I had to look it up. My vocabulary is getting a work out; Truce at Curiouser and Curiouser just taught me “abseil” this morning.

  2. Emmie and I have been doing a bit of rescuing ourselves lately. We’ve gone to the Human Society three times to drop off dogs found aimlessly wandering our neighborhood.

    One thing I noticed about that place (and what jumped out at me about your story the most) is there ARE a lot of pit bulls and pit mix dogs at the humane society as well as the city pound.

    I found out from one of the volunteers that more often than not a pit or pit mix will get euthanized because of the alleged unpredictable nature of the breed.

    Quite sad.

  3. an eye too have learned a new verb “to slap-the-sass-out-of-her” which I shall re-coin as “to slapdasassoutover” as in:

    It was such a lovely day I simply had to agree when she suggested that we blow-off work for the afternoon and slapdasassoutover.

    Sometimes yous gotts to play ruff.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s