I need to tell you something, I said.

Blondie:  What?  I’m kind of working here.  Why aren’t you on your way home?

Me:  We were… I mean, we are.  We’ve loved spending the past few days with you and BB (Blondie’s Beau), but I need to tell you what I sprung on him at the last minute.

Blondie:  Oh, god.

Let me back up.  We’re coming to the end of this epic road trip, our final stop being with our daughter and her boyfriend (BB) in their house.  Well, okay, it’s half our house, half Blondie’s, as we bought it as an investment for her when she needed somewhere to live.  It’s an 1887 Victorian – wonderful old house two hours south of the Oregon border… but I’m getting off the topic.

 Just as we finished packing up the car (Blondie had already left for work, BB was in the shower) the neighbor across the street, Mike (nicest man, looks really gruff but he’s got a soft spot the size of Montana), was outside and said to another neighbor who was walking her dog, “Look I found a bunny!”

Neighbor:  Mike, there’s rabbits everywhere.

Mike: No, this is a pet rabbit, I’m sure it’s a pet rabbit.

Okay, I’m a normal human being so I was like I want to see the rabbit so I sprinted across the road to Mike’s house and there it was sitting on the curb eating a carrot which Mike had given it.

Mike said that he couldn’t get near the rabbit, but when he tossed a carrot at it, the bunny was willing to eat it.  Also, the rabbit was not your normal looking vermin – it was grubby but beautiful, long fluffy hair and pinky little ears.

I asked should I give it a try; maybe it’ll respond better to a female smell than a male smell.

He said sure give it a shot.

Mr. BunBuns was having none of it. Male human or female, he did not want to be near us. He hopped away and tried to crawl under Mike’s fence and got stuck. We shifted a few things and I was able to pick it up – this rabbit had clearly been held in the past. I’d expect a wild rabbit to fight to the death to get away but Mr. BunBuns just cuddled in.

Mr. BunBuns’ first official portrait. Damn, does he need a bath.

Mike:  It’s gotta be someone’s pet.

Me:  I’m sure it is, but we’re leaving to go home.  I can’t care for it, and we need to get flyers up in the neighborhood to see if we can find its owner.

Mike:  I can’t keep it.  I have Sadie and Mako.

He had a point. I call Sadie “Shady Sadie the bitey lady”. She’s a 200 pound bulldog who tries to nibble on you a bit, and she can get aggressive with other dogs if she’s threatened. (Okay, she’s not 200 pounds but she kinda looks it.)

Sadie in a pensive moment.

Mako is the quietest, gentlest German Shepherd you’ve ever met. What a darling dog. He’s twice Sadie’s height and could, I’m sure, best her if needed, but if Sadie gets a toy away from him, that’s it, it’s hers. Sadie rules that roost.

Mako looks fierce but he loves ear scritchies.

The two dogs sit on the front porch sometimes, as Mike has a chest high fence around his front garden, and the pups come up for loving when we’re outside. 

While Mako is kind and gentle to us, I wouldn’t be placing bets on what he’d do to a rabbit… and Sadie?  Sadie would be like, pass the tartar sauce, it’s rabbit for lunch.

So Mike had a point.

What am I gonna do?  Leave Mr. BunBuns to the elements?  I can’t, I just can’t.  And Blondie, several months back, found a stray dog and decided to keep it – again, early in the morning before work.  She brought it inside and told her honey they now had a dog.

BB:  Um… what?

Blondie:  I found a dog.  It needs us, but I have to go to work now.

BB:  Oooooooh-kay.

He of the giant heart took in the dog, made sure it was set with food and water, and went to shower and get ready for work.

The pup promptly had a rather enthusiastic bout of intestinal distress.  Everywhere.  Just… everywhere.

As he was cleaning up the mess, the pupper, having gifted his benefactors with his prodigious pooping, decided he’d had enough of this house and took off for home, which is apparently around the corner.

So I knew they were willing to take in stray animals if needed, which is why I took Mr. BunBuns and the carrot remains and waddled back to Blondie’s house.

And ‘fessed up to BB.  He’s wonderful, is that man.  He totally took in stride that his girlfriend’s mother appeared with a stray rabbit for him to take care of.  He immediately fell in love with Mr. BunBuns.

He agreed to let Mr. BunBuns hang out in a box in the kitchen with water, lettuce and carrots while he went to work.  He was a little concerned about the bunny being alone all day, but I said feh, they live in boxes all the time.  No worries.

BB snapped a picture of BunBuns to post on the local lost pets bulletin board and after wondering about taking el conejo to work with him, told me to leave him in the kitchen, but close all the doors in case he made his escape.

No worries, I said.  I’ll put a weight on the lid so he doesn’t get out.  BB went to work, and after one last pet of Mr. BunBuns, we went to see Blondie… which is how we got to me telling her I had… news.

Blondie:  You left… a rabbit… in my kitchen?

Me:  Yep.

Blondie:  A live rabbit.

Me:  It’s Mr. BunBuns.  He’s lost.  BB said I could leave him there.

Blondie:  …

Me:  He’s obviously someone’s pet.  BB’s posting his picture on the lost pets board.

Blondie: …

Me:  Okay, honey, this is no weirder than some-a the things you’ve pulled on ME over the years.

Blondie:  What… is… he… IN?  Like, is he just wandering around?

Me:  A box!  The box we were gonna bring the plants home in.  We got a cover for it and it’s weighted down so Mr. BunBuns can’t escape!

Blondie:  Have you… considered… rabbits… eat cardboard?

Me:  Oh, shit.

Blondie:  (whacks palm against forehead)

I felt supremely stupid on the one hand, but on the other, hell, the number of times during her youth I felt what she was feeling… well, payback’s a bitch, baby.

Follow up: We talked to Blondie later that evening. Turns out both she and BB decided to run home for lunch (no small thing for BB). On the one hand, she knows there may be someone out there really anxious to find their bunny, but on the other, she’s all “rabbit? What rabbit? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mr. BunBuns has a home if he needs one. And per Blondie, he’s already a happy rabbit, hopping around and exploring. Next stop: a well-rabbit checkup with the vet.

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