December 19 was a sad, sad day. Not because that was the day I flew to UB for vacation. No. That was awesome. But unfortunately a bleary-eyed Suzanne stumbled into her bathroom early that morning to discover a tragic sight. Frat Boy (who had recently been re-christened as Pope McQueen) had died but he had gone down like The King- in the toilet. Her next door neighbor and our 'Mongolian brother' Gonzo dutifully and nobly fished him out of his watery grave, though it took quite a while. Later in the day, though the trash lady accidentally carted away the bunny body, they had a rousing service for our fallen loved one, complete with poetry recitation and harmonica odes. And that was the end of Frat Boy.
Thank goodness Biscuit is alive and well but that's quite a story, too. Unfortunately it turns out that I didn't research quite as thoroughly as I should have before adopting our little furballs of joy. A while ago I discovered a scratch on Biscuit's nose. Suspicious, I trawled the internet for information about two male rabbits living together and my darkest fears were confirmed. Apparently if you leave two adult male bunnies alone together for long enough they will fight TO THE DEATH. A very sick part of me wants to know what a fluffy bunny death match looks like, but not enough to leave the two together. So Suzanne and I discontinued our joint week-on, week-off custody and took our separate animals home, least Biscuit be clawed to death mercilessly by his brother (again with the rodent families brutalizing each other!). But then that gave way to a conundrum: what to do with Biscuit while I went away on vacation. Serendipitously I had mentioned the fact that I had rabbits to a missionary/development worker who lives in our town. He and another family working for the same organization have a brood of about five or six kids together. I see them from time to time and it totally rocks my mind to be able to speak English with children. It feels so strange. But they are super cute and apparently at one point had bunnies when they lived in another town. Unfortunately those pets came to a brutal end at the jaws of a hashaa dog when they were on vacation and the kids have missed their furry friends ever since. Perfect! I asked and my American father friend enthusiastically agreed to let his spawn bunny-sit while I was away. Then came the bunny drop, which was intense- fending off hungry stray dogs while toting quite a large cage I was then swarmed by thrilled children all chattering away at once (in English!!) about how excited they were to have Biscuit. He was swept away and carried aloft by the small mob of missionary munchkins and I haven't seen him since.
Coming back to Mongolia, I realized that these children could probably give him far more love and attention than I ever could. Being here is hard enough but for an American kid many things are harder. Granted these children have never really known life in America but I feel a certain kinship with them and if giving them my bunny will make them happy then so be it. It's worth it. Completely. Apparently the missionary family also wants to breed rabbits later so if Biscuit can have a life filled with dozens of girlfriends while siring a whole baby bunny farm then who am I to deny him that? Also now everything I own isn't getting peed on, which is definitely a plus. I gave pet ownership a good, albeit brief, run. It was fun and educational to be sure. I don't think I'll be doing it again any time soon but it was totally worth every tugrog and second I spent on it. Today the father and one of his wee peanuts came to pick up the hay that I had kept for the bunnies. It's weird to see such a big open space in my closet now and I felt a little sad sweeping the last straws off the floor. But I know Biscuit is in a far better place. And I hope Frat Boy is, too.
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