I usually like to sleep late in the morning, so when my husband woke me from a deep sleep one day at 6 a.m., I was, needless to say, less than happy. However, when I heard the words "You need to come with me with the carrier. I think Black Bunny is hurt," I sprung out of bed like it was nearly noon.

"Little Black Bunny" was what we affectionately named the stray rabbit who suddenly appeared in our neighborhood shortly after Easter 1999. He looked like a young little guy, not yet showing any signs of his gender. He was jet black, so we knew he was not wild. He would come to "visit" our pet rabbits - two Dutch bunnies, 'Cinnamon' and 'Raindrop' - when they were in their outside hutch. They were indoor rabbits, but we would put them out for the day when the weather was good. Black Bunny would also go around to other yards, provided the people there would treat him to a piece of carrott or sliver of an apple. However, he would never let anyone get closer than an arms length away. If he had, he would have been welcomed into our family much sooner.

Then came that frightening March morning, nearly a year after he first appeared. My husband had been out jogging, and he happened to see Black Bunny on the side of the road. He looked like he had been hit by a car. Yet when Ted approached him, he moved... no, rolled is more like it... under a parked car... then out the other side. That's when Ted ran home to get me.

We sprinted to where Ted had last seen Black Bunny, and he was still there. Thankfully, it was a Sunday morning and still early so there were no cars driving on this usually busy street. We managed to pick up Black Bunny, put him in the carrier and get him to Animerge, a local after-hours emergency veterinary clinic. Immediately, the vet on call knew what was wrong. Black Bunny had not been hit by a car, but had apparently suffered from an untreated ear infection that caused scar tissue to form on his inner ear and brain, thus causing him to lose his equlibrium. The vet was not sure if it could be reversed, or even cured. We were asked to make a decision on his fate. Of course, we decided to give him a chance. He appeared not to be in any pain. He had survived a year fending for himself in the changing seasons of New Jersey. He was apparently tossed aside once already in his short, innocent life and we were not about to abandon him as someone else had done.

We took him home, set him up in a cage with carpeting on the sides to soften any tumbling he did, administered antibiotics, and gave him endless amounts of love. Over time, Black Bunny seemed to learn to control his off-balance rolling, having the most trouble with it when he was tired or picked up. His head was always cocked to one side and we belive he lost sight in the eye on the down side. He became our "handicapped bunny" and even taught my young niece to treat creatures less fortunate than others with a little bit of extra care and concern. He became fast friends with Cinnamon and Raindrop. He ate heartily and soon became BIG Black Bunny. And, for all of his troubles, he always had a sparkle in his one good eye.

Unfortunately, the infection that had settled in his ear came back and effected his bladder and urinary tract just last autumn. We were told by the vet that the infection was probably always present in his system, lying dormant, only to go with him into old age and beyond, or to strike again in adulthood. Sadly, it did the latter. We lost Black Bunny after only five years. However, the vet at the end did not know his story and only saw him as a rabbit who had an illness which caused him to roll almost uncontrollably, which he though Black Bunny had just contracted. He told me that Black Bunny would never be normal, would never stop rolling, and would never survive. I informed him that Black Bunny had been that way for five years, yet he had conquered his disability to hop with the other bunnies, only with a little more walk in his step, than hop. The vet looked at me and said, "Well, you must have taken very good care of him." How could I not? He gave unconditional love and overcame adversity in more ways than one.

I remember when he was young and roaming the neighborhood and a day or two would go by when I didn't see him and I would get so upset, thinking something bad had happened to him. Now that he really is gone, I am thankful he was such a fighter and that he trusted us enough to let us bring him into our home and our family. He was a special little fellow who took a little bit of our hearts with him into Heaven, but left a lot of himself here with us.

Author: Louise Stahl
No country specified.
True story: Yes
Rating: 16 paws up
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