COVID Bunnies

As I write this, a four-legged little black blob of fur hops across my computer closing the internet and all my tabs. Her cream-colored mate is right behind her, his floppy ears dragging across the floor. I’ll have to restart my computer but I don’t care. 

The most responsible thing to do right now is to stay home. It’s been the responsible thing to do for about a year now, so I stay home.

At my home, a three-year-old and a five-year old reign. Each day is about the same. It looks something like this: they jump hand in hand off the couch overseeing their kingdom of splayed books, confettied Legos, and cookie crumbs. Then a fight breaks out over the ownership of something stupid like a plastic bag. My son screams. He becomes inconsolable and my daughter wraps her fingers so tightly around the object that her hand turns red.

Despite my best efforts, the virus has crept in and pulls my shoulder strings up, up, up until my shoulders are around my ears. Is it ok to see friends? Should we get tested? Is everyone in my hometown wearing masks to keep my mom safe? Is my son reacting to social isolation? Did the neighbors say they were in quarantine?

In April of last year, I developed a hobby to distract me from the Corona-related stress. I would scroll through the pets listed on Ebay, imagining a small curly-haired dog on my lap. My husband talked about huskies and golden retrievers. We would never agree.

Then, there they were: Jamie and Luna. They were a retired pair of breeding rabbits with floppy ears. They were in need of a new home, and a few other things like a small fenced-in yard, daily fresh greens, a double-decker rabbit hutch, endless hay, constant cleaning, nail trimming, and so on. But I was happy to provide. 

My kids were so happy the day I came home with them. They had no idea, neither did my husband. I discovered that if you put out a litter box with fresh hay they would use it, so we could have them inside sometimes. Much of the time, though, they were outside and we could watch them frolic in the yard while we ate breakfast. Breakfast with the bunnies, I would call it. I joked with the upstairs’ neighbor that she could mention it on her airbnb listing. 

The only thing I didn’t like was catching them. It practically gave them a heart attack each night. Then, I started putting food out in the kitchen at the end of the day or whenever it was time for them to come in. They learned to hop inside and I safely closed the door behind them. The kitchen became their sanctuary. I ordered a long rug because their paws slipped on the tile, added a hide-away house, and a wooden food and water bowl holder. I could provide the bunnies with their best life. 

The neighbors came by. We had something to talk about. My German skills are always so lacking, but when it came to the bunnies I found my words. My son proudly showed them off, too. The neighbors brought treats for the rabbits and offered to watch them if we ever went on holiday.

I don’t know how to best guide my children or myself  through this pandemic. I don’t know how much I should limit my contact with others. I don’t know what the long term mental and physical effects of Covid-19 will be. I have no control over these things. But I can do everything right for two little rabbits.