As our rabbit population ages, it seems I only post about them to mark passings. But I suppose that's a sign of the bunnies' stable and relatively happy lives.
White Rabbit (aka Scarlett) was at least twelve years old when she died today. She was a remarkably sturdy and healthy rabbit, but old age finally caught up with her. With her death, Steve and I are back to a place we haven't been in 18 years: we only have one rabbit.
Last bunny family portrait from 2015, our remaining rabbit Bruce on Steve's lap, White Rabbit on mine:
White Rabbit had a big personality to go with her fairly large size, with expressive ruby-red eyes, and I found her very amusing. As soon as I got home from the vet today without her, I found myself immediately reverting to looking to her condo every time I passed it in the living room, expecting to see her there giving me a funny look.
Steve and I caught White Rabbit living outside our previous rental house as a stray, and she's lived with us since November 2010. Our vet said she was the smartest and luckiest rabbit ever to have ended up hanging out in front of our place.
First picture we ever took of White Rabbit, after setting her up with her own pen in our bedroom:
For eleven years, she was a fixture in our house: biting well-intentioned petsitters when they didn't move fast enough to give her breakfast, and being beyond sweet to me, Steve and the boys. She will be (and already is) terribly missed.
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