Poor Bunny FuFu

When I saw the headline “Dozen Dead Rabbits Found In Trumbull Park” I assumed it was just some more Santeria nonsense reaching beyond Bridgeport’s borders. Then I thought about the bunnies my mom had been sending me pictures of for a week. They’ve been calling a shady spot outside her work home. I thought, “Are these just wild baby rabbits that had an unfortunate encounter with a lawn mower?” Upon actually reading the article I realized some complete a*hole had just dumped a bunch of sickly pet rabbits.

Now, I’ve had two pet rabbits in my life. One I got for my fifth birthday. She was a dwarf, albino rabbit named Amy who often tried to attack me when I reached into her cage to get her food, but also cuddled with Solomon, our Siamese cat. She lived to a rather ripe old age, of 5 or 6 years. (I only recently found out she didn’t die of natural causes but at the hands of some marauding neighborhood critter.) Then I got a chocolaty brown rabbit named Bo who did not live nearly as long… My step-dad found him in the front yard, headless, with the cage door ripped off its hinges.

Rabbits can make good pets, sometimes, but mostly they just end up dead. So, I mean, a few dead bunnies is hardly weird.

Rabbits, though, are nothing if not prolific and if  you’re dumb enough to get two and keep them in the same cage you will, no doubt, end up with a crap load of sick, dirty bunnies before a fisher gets the chance to kill the damn things. It’s easy to see how some stupid parent would get their kid a pair of rabbits and end up with 20 of them.

What’s not easy to understand is why, instead of reaching out to one of the bajillion rescue groups across the state, you would dump them in a park. Sure, bunnies, like goldfish, die. I came to terms with that around the time Bo lost his head, but I judge people based on how they treat their pets. Once you’ve made the decision to get a pet it means you’ve taken on the responsibility of caring for them, properly, until they die. Sometimes that may mean finding them a new home, though in my world, it basically means spendings 15-20 years shoveling crap, vacuuming hair, and telling anyone who has a problem with one or more of your pets to shove it up their arse. So you can imagine what I think of someone who dumps the pets they’re supposed to have a made a commitment to in  the woods.

Give me and Ruby, my less than friendly cat, a few minutes alone with that irresponsible turd ball and he’ll think twice before dumping a pet ever again.

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