"Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out ... [b]ut these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."
-- Margery Williams, "The Velveteen Rabbit"
For about a year's worth of Sundays, I've wanted a rabbit. Not just any rabbit, mind you, but one that conjured a distinctive image from my youth. A lovable, soft brown bunny with long, dark gray ears and big brown eyes, he would be my gardening companion and I would be his supplier of all things leafy.
Over the years, I read about rabbits, the different breeds, their care and their habitat, and I steadily formed opinions about which selections I'd make when the time came for a new addition to my furry family.
That time came late one night a couple of months ago when I placed an order for the Taj Mahal of hutches and all the supplies a lucky bunny could imagine in his wildest carrot-laden dreams. I'd then look to adopt two male Mini Lops, a compact breed known for being friendly, playful and intelligent, and I would name the strapping young lads Gus and Woodrow after the finest Western film ever created in the history of all mankind, "Lonesome Dove."
Unbeknownst to me, in the coming days, I would instead find myself holding two very young Heinz-57 bunnies in desperate need of rescue, neither of which was selected by me as much as I was selected for them. But that was alright, I thought, staring into their sad little faces. "Y'all hit the jackpot," I whispered.
One little fella was the spitting image of that velveteen rabbit, though I noted he seemed fairly large for his purported age and his feet looked disturbingly big for his immature body. The other was smaller and broken black (spotted black and white) with an extremely friendly nature. And so it came to pass that Gus and Woodrow, respectively, found their new home in my courtyard.
For various reasons, I'd concluded from my research that it was preferable to have the boys neutered, and I set about finding a vet to do the dirty deed.
It so happened that the next weekend I was heading to my uncle's farm, so I mentioned to him my sticker-shock at the quoted prices (2-3 times that which a cat or dog would be neutered) if the vet even handled rabbits at all. Uncle Ronnie said he'd do some checking and get back with me.
When he called back, he said he talked to two men about my situation and received interesting reactions from each. Phil, the only vet in the area, said he'd never neutered a rabbit, but sure, he'd do it, how hard could it be. This did not give me a high level of comfort.
Pastor Charles had a more visceral reaction. "She wants to do what? Neuter a rabbit? Why, God put 'em on this earth to multiply. She might as well just cut off their ears and call 'em squirrels!"
I finally found a local vet who owned a rabbitry and was willing to neuter the boys, even though she confessed to having had the request made of her only once in several years. The clinic was near my West Coast gal pal's house, so she offered to take the boys for me while I headed to Uncle Ronnie's for a few days.
The next afternoon, I received phone calls from the vet and my pal.
"How'd it go?" I asked.
"Well, not exactly according to plan," she said. "They're girls."
"Girls!" my friend exclaimed. "You've gone too far! She just wanted 'em neutered!"
The vet laughed and showed my pal (and me, via bunny pornographic texts) how she sexed the young rabbits and felt fairly certain they were girls despite what I'd previously been told.
And, by the way, they're mixed-breed Netherland giants.
Yes, after much deliberation to select male Mini Lops, I'm now the proud parent of two bouncing not-so-baby girl Netherland giants newly renamed Gussie and Woods (a la Natalie). You can't always get what you want, but sometimes, as the Rolling Stones would say, you get what you need.
Exactly what you need, whether it's a home with all your parts still intact or a super-sized version of a childhood dream. Because when you're Real, you can't be anything but perfect to those who truly love you.
Commentary on 10/09/2014