Our little monster turned 8 this past week. He may be cruising into his senior years, but he hasn’t slowed down a bit! He runs his laps around the couch, often to evade me. He chews holes in the corners of the couch cushions. He’s still working on remodeling the molding between the living room and entrance way.
And I love him more and more every day.
He’ll probably never be a snuggle bunny. Most rabbits aren’t, despite their stuffed animal-esque appearance. But Peanut has mellowed a bit in his advancing age. I get bitten far less often than before. I must admit, even when the bites were more frequent, they were never unprovoked. He never attacks without cause, unless of course you’re an aromatic piece of hay or frond of parsley.
Peanut has been spending a lot more time on the couch than he used to. When he perches on the arm rest, I do get a little nervous… but he gets his balance talent from me and his explorative nature from the Bunny Daddy.
We didn’t do much to celebrate his 8th birthday in particular because we’ve learned to celebrate every single day, not just the designated occasions.
When we lost his brother Tater Tot, two years ago this Tuesday (wow that was alliterative), I became very resentful and mad at myself for every moment I spent looking at my dumb phone rather than paying attention to Tater. I regretted every second that I spend engaged in something inane when I could have been snuggling the Tot. I can’t get that time back.
In the heartbreak, I gained understanding and awareness. From that awareness, I make an effort to be more present with Peanut and with everyone in my life. It’s a practice, not a perfect. I sometimes find myself caught up in the inconsequential, the mindless scrolling more often than I like, but I realign quickly and forgive myself.
Now, if you’ll forgive me, I have an 8-year-old fluffy bunny to attend to. Much love.