This week we said good bye to Benny Bunny. He had lived years past the two or three years that normal bunnies are promised. Five is old for a bunny.

He first came into our family when his 'mother' was graduating from 8th grade. She wanted a pet. Of all the children in this home, she was the one with the proper level of responsibility to care for another living thing. No one ever questioned whether her pet would have fresh water, a full food bowl or an occasional treat. Her mother and I had gone to the pet store where Benny stood out from the rest because he was by far the cutest with the most distinctive markings.

It was hilarious to watch him hop after the family cat, the cat looking at this creature as if to ask, "Why can't you walk right?" The cat was safe in the kitchen because of the slick floor which Benny would not transverse. The cat hunched his back and hissed when Benny came near. Over the years one phone cord fell victim to Benny's sharp teeth as did a favorite pair of flip-flops.
And one ten dollar bill that was inadvertently left on top of the cage.

Benny spent the weekend at my house one year. We had him in a guest bedroom of course and let him out to hop around the bed a couple times during the day. A few days after Benny's visit we were expecting guests and I went into the bedroom to freshen up the room. I knew the sheets had been changed on the bed so I didn't give it a second thought...until a little voice in my head told me to check under the pillows. Removing six pillows, four of them decorative, I was appalled to find little "Benny droppings." To this day I find humor when I think of what my guests would have thought if they had discovered these on their own.

Last spring Benny's mother graduated from high school and in the fall started her freshman year at a college seven hours away. The family promised to take good care of Benny and they did. But time and age have a way of creeping up on all living creatures, even pampered ones. On her last visit home from school, just a few weeks ago, she mentioned that when she would pet Benny she could feel every one of his vertebrae. She was sad that his ears no longer would stand up straight. She knew it was only a matter of a short time.

Still, death hurts. A person can share secrets with a bunny (or a cat or dog) that can't be shared with a person without ever thinking that perhaps confidentiality will be broken or judgment rendered.

"Grief is so painfully real, regardless of its origin. The love of, and attachment to, an animal friend can equal that of human relationships. Likewise, the loss of an animal can be just as devastating."
~Rev. Joel L. Morgan

And that's what I think about it.