New School Year

It is another school year for the Weardens. You haven't seen some of these elusive creatures in the wild in a minute, so here is a quick update and reintroduction.  We had some difficulty obtaining photographs of these rare and wild beasts, as they seem shy or frightened by the flash. Some fruit snacks and proffered screen time allowed us this rare glimpse into their strange lives.

First out, first about: This guy! 

This child has requested I call them Cosmos, and that I honor that on the blog, so this I shall do. There may be nicknames such as Coco, Cocomelon, or Kokomo. All of these also refer to said child. For fun, they avoid thinking about the future or making plans about the future. Things they are into: sea jellies, space/astronomy, some freaky little bear and nugget abomination, the color purple, and "Gravity Falls".

I talked to Cosmos's teacher from last year; she said that the remarkable thing about this person was how innocent and childlike they still are. Coco likes what they like, unhesitatingly and unashamedly. Their teacher this year is perfect for them because she is so quiet and calmly cheerful, regardless of Cosmos's crabitude. (That's crabby attitude). 

Currently, they are looking for their first job, hoping to work up to applying at Spirit Halloween. 

Cosmos is almost 17 and is a junior.

 

Next up: This bundle of disaster, my Gabriel! 

Gabriel is 15 and going into high school! We went and visited with his teachers the other day and they seem really nice and excited to have him in their class. He was calm and content to hang out in the room. We set them up with some snacks and gave them the run-down. I am hoping it goes well for him. 

I've been asked lately what I am going to do with Gabe after High School. What I can say is: we don't know for certain. We have some options, but right now we are playing it by ear. As long as Gabriel continues to do well in a traditional school setting, we will continue to send him. If his behaviors start significantly outweighing the social and educational benefits of school, we will look at pulling him out. A high school diploma will not be a meaningful or necessary achievement for Gabe. He is unlikely to ever hold a job or seek postsecondary education. Right now, he is still getting something out of it--he likes the peers and the routine and having somewhere to go. 

If we have to pull him out, what we will likely do is have his Personal Care Assistant schedule their hours for during the day Monday through Wednesday to assist him with activities of daily living around the house, help him build those independent skills, and maybe work on some community-based exposure like going to the zoo or the grocery store. Michael is off Thursdays and Fridays, so he would be able to keep him then. It isn't ideal and it is still a work-in-progress, but it is what we have. 

He will not tolerate the insulin pump or the continuous glucose monitor, but he doesn't mind shots and fingerpokes so we are managing his diabetes fine.   

Thirdest Child, and spiciest of my children: Ben! 

Benjamin is about to turn 13 and is going into 7th grade. He plays bassoon in the band, and is senior patrol leader in his scouts group. Lately, he has been interested in colleges (specifically McMurray), which guides so many of his decisions. Recently, he signed up to get more information from several colleges, prompting them to call me on my cell phone because I "expressed an interest in their program". Ben is obsessed with history and geography--he likes walking the Lunsford Trail and talk about all the flags. He can tell you something about just about any nation in the world. 

Bullying was a really big problem for him last year, which has led to an uptick in outbursts at home. We got him into counseling and contacted the school many times, but it feels like there is so little the district can do. He was in trouble a lot, and struggled for the first time ever in the academic setting, even if he was getting relatively good grades. 

The big news for him though: he was recently having some concerning symptoms, like getting dehydrated even when he was drinking plenty, not sweating, losing weight, not wanting to eat, stomach pains, vomiting. 

Oh reader, you know where this is going. 

So we tested his blood sugar a few times. We saw a lot of hypoglycemic (low blood sugar) episodes, so we started focusing more on high quality snacks more frequently and more protein at meal times to help hold him. 

Then we started seeing unexplained and unjustifiable highs. 

We took him into the pediatrician who ran labs; antibodies associated with type-1 were negative, including GADS, IA-2s, ZnT8, and ICAs. But...his blood sugars were testing in prediabetic range. 

This is all we know at present. We have been referred to the endocrinologist that sees the other three. We are waiting to hear back from them to schedule an intake so they can run some more tests and see what is going on. I will attempt to keep you updated on that front. 

Onto my obviously my most photo-excited child: Tula! 

Tula is 8 years old and going into 2nd grade. Her favorite things to do are read, and do yoga, and cuddle. She likes pink, rainbows, alicorns, and bunnies and kittens. Her favorite food is Ramen noodles. Things she does NOT like: loud noises, zucchini, and being alone.  She said sometimes she just lays around all day doing nothing and reading, which is a good thing because she needs days like those. 

I had some concerns about her--her anxiety has been so high, and she just has...peculiarities. So I made an appointment for her to get some counseling. Her counselor referred her for testing; the results were that she has a high IQ and ADHD, which contributes to her anxiety. We have been working on some management techniques to address her fears and empower her to take control of her worries. 

As far as diabetes goes, she is on the Dexcom continuous glucose monitor--it takes her blood sugar reading at set intervals so that we can better track trends, predict highs and lows, and treat them before they get dangerous. We have gotten training on the omnipod insulin pump, but we have to meet with the company representative to set up the first pump. Once we do, the dexcom will communicate with the insulin pump in a nearly closed-loop system, suspending basal insulin when she is crashing and administering insulin when she is spiking so that she has better control and safer numbers. We will still have to program meal ratios, but it will give her a lot more freedom. 

Michael is fairly consistent; there isn't much change there but I will let you know if there is. 

Which just leaves me: 

I changed jobs. 

So you know I loved my time at Cooper. I made some fantastic friends, I had good support from admin, and the kids were fantastic. I wasn't actively looking for a new job. 

But Julia reached out to me and said a position was opening up over at the charter school she worked at. She suggested I put my application in, maybe see if it would be a good fit for me. 

At the interview, I got a good feeling off the director--she was organized and competent, and just seemed like a cool person. I liked what she had to say about the campus and the position I was applying for. It would give me a chance to learn some new things, grow in the field of special education and gain experience in a different type of educational institution. I wasn't positive I would get it. 

She called me back a little while later and offered me a position: 504 coordinator. 

The way the school works, I will actually have several roles, including on a couple committees that Julia signed me up for (one of which is a diabetes committee, if you can believe it). I will still work directly with students and be special education, as well. I think in total I have like seven "hats". But everyone there takes on many roles. 

I like the people I am working with. It has been a positive experience, even if I often feel a bad case of impostor syndrome, and I miss my friends from Cooper. But I am hoping that anxiety fades in time, and is replaced by confidence in my abilities. 

That is my overdue update. Hope you have a fantastic school year, everyone! 

Second Quarter Reading Wrap-Up

Second quarter wrap-up; in the last 3 months, I’ve resd 64 books, bringing my overall yearly total to 105. A lot were shorter quick reads, and many from my backlog of TBR. 

Books read for Book Club: 

1. Our Hideous Progeny by CE McGill—all of us found this one to be a tedious drag
2. The Midnight Library by Matt Haig—we liked this one better; some good philosophical concepts in a library between life and death
3. Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie—classic for a reason; she’s a great author

Nonfiction 

1. Become Who You Are: A New Theory of Self Esteem, Human Greatness, and the Opposite of Depression by Ryan A Bush—author is not an expert, it’s not peer reviewed, it was recommended so I checked it out but I view it as some dude’s thoughts and not science 
2. The Laws of Medicine: Field Notes from an Uncertain Science by Siddhartha Mukherjee—interesting 
3. Paris: a Memoir by Paris Hilton—broke my heart; very real and impactful work 
4. Present Over Perfect: Leaving Behind Frantic for a Simpler, More Soulful Way of Living by Shauna Niequist—she might have had a point, but it flies in the face of how I function 
5. The Six Types of Working Genius by Patrick Lencioni—interesting way to understand other’s motivations and work within your energizers 
6. Braving the Wilderness: The Quest for True Belonging and the Courage to Stand Alone by Brené Brown—I’m basic; I like Brené
7. America Again by Stephen Colbert—jokes didn’t hit where I was finding humor, so fell flat to me 
8. The Woman They Wanted: Shattering the Illusion of the Good Christian Wife by Shannon Harris—good look at how broken doctrines can hurt 
9. Jesus In the Shadows: Seeing Jesus in the Bible’s Most Well-Known Okd Testament Stories by Eric Robinson—a yearly reread, first time with the audiobook. Definitely worth getting both, I like hearing it in the authors voice 
10. Hunger: A Memoir of (My) Body by Roxane Gay—I like the way Gay writes; she has a way with words that makes her journey hers but also yours 
11. Not That Fancy: Simple Lessons on Living, Loving, Eating, or Dusting Off Your Boots by Reba McEntire—she has the cutest freaking laugh, so I got the audiobook and was not disappointed 
12. Stop Doing That Sh*t: End Self Sabotage and Demand Your Life Back by Gary John Bishop—I didn’t stop doing that sh*t, sorry 
13. If You Ask Me (and Of Course You Won’t) by Betty White—woman was, is, and always will be a treasure 
14. How to Make People Like You in 90 Seconds or Less by Nicholas Boothman—not sure what I got out of this, except to make me suspicious people are trying to trick me into liking them 
15. The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference by Malcolm Gladwell—not what I expected, it was a lot of statistics, which I found kind of cool 
16. Undeniable: Evolution and the Science of Creation by Bill Nye—Bill! Bill! Bill! Bill!
17. Starry Messenger: Cosmic Perspectives on Civilization by Neil DeGrass Tyson—underwhelming. Felt like he dug just enough to justify his own beliefs and stopped, like so many do. I wished he did better. Oh well. 
18. Atomic Habits: An Easy & Proven Way to Build Good Habits & Break Bad Ones by James Clear—everyone was talking about this so I got nosy. Meh. It was alright. 
19. Educated by Tara Westover—this was recommended to me so many times, I finally got around to it and kicked myself for not checking it out way sooner. Worth the hype. 
20. I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jeannette McCurdy—well written, well told story 
21. How to Know a Person: The Art of Seeing Other and Being Deeply Seen by David Brooks—read so I can try and make my kids feel seen 
22. The Promise of Security by Beth Moore—very short read by Beth, but it was a good little devotional consideration 
23. The Energy Bus: 10 Rules to Fuel Your Life, Work, and Team with Positive Energy by Jon Gordon—felt like toxic positivity but a good reminder to try and frame what you can in matters of growth and how your negativity can bring others down 
24. The Grand Design by Stephen Hawking—I think this is what I wanted the deGrasse Tyson book to be 
25. Whole Again: Healing Your Heart and Rediscovering Your True Self After Toxic Relationships and Emotional Abuse by Jackson Mackenzie—read this to better understand what someone else was going through. Helped. 
26. Rewire Your Brain: Five Healthy Factors to a Better Life  by John B Arden—no new information and stop telling me to work out
27. The Comfort Crisis: Embrace Your Discomfort to Reclaim Your Wild, Happy, Healthy Self by Michael Easter—if I get over the personality differences between me and the author, he’s got some good points, and they have helped so 
28. Black AF History: The Un-Whitewashed History of America by Michael Harriot—author is a strong journalist, and he uses imagery, emotional resonance, and quality research really well in this book. I’m going to keep an eye out for more by him. 
29. It’s Not Hysteria: Everything You Need to Know About Your Reproductive Health by Karen Tang—it came off like reading a textbook…and I mean that in the most complimentary way. That is what I wanted. Tang is a very smart doctor, she teaches you what you need to know to advocate for yourself and what the reality of your choices are. 
30. Becoming Free Indeed: My Story of Disentangling Faith from Fear by Jinger Duggar—gotta be honest, I’ve never given a crap about the Duggars, but I really liked this book. She’s a sweet girl trying her best to be a good person, even if that means reevaluating what she was taught. That’s important for us all to do. 
31. Counting the Cost by Jill Duggar—this is the same as Jinger, but instead of a Grace approach to her family, Jill has anger. And that’s okay. They’re both supposed to go through the journey as makes sense to them. It helps me to know that if it’s okay for them to have their responses, it’s okay for me to have mine too.  

 Fiction: 

1. My Heart Will Find You by Jude Deveraux—I’ve read everything she’s ever written and I will probably continue to do so 
2. Taken by Mistake by C Daring Wyckoff, Brianna—author I know from Facebook; this book was delightful and felt like a classic. Worth checking out 
3. The Black Lyon by Jude Deveraux—reread; she’s so good at making me have an emotional response to a character 
4. The Selfish Giant by Oscar Wilde—cute and quick 
5. The Light Princess by George McDonald—sweet, but a little forgettable for me 
6. Code Talker: A Novel About the Navajo Marines of World War II by Joseph Bruchac—informative for a novel, and an easy, engaging read 
7. The Return of Rafe MacKade by Nora Roberts—never read a Nora Roberts, but I liked the 90s big hair romance of it all so I read all four 
8. The Pride of Jared MacKade by Nora Roberts 
9. The Heart of Devin MacKade by Nora Roberts—this should have been the final book; it was way more, felt like the culmination of the previous books in the best way 
10. The Fall of Shane MacKade by Nora Roberts 
11. Daughter of the Red Deer by Joan Wolf—first romance I ever read, I reread too much 
12. Family Lore by Elizabeth Acevedo—BOTM pick; better in concept than in execution. 
13. The Adventures of Space Girl Red by R. A Davis—read this aloud with the family; I’m not great at sci-fi but I like the story 
14. Love In Color by Bolu Babalola—BOTM, short stories some better than others 
15. River Sing Me Home by Eleanor Shearer —BOTM, did some awesome things and told a good story 
16. The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan—reread because Stacia likes it, this was the first time it hit me the way it was supposed to 
17. Five Broken Blades by Mai Corland—BOTM couldn’t put down, so great 
18. The Gift by Freida McFadden—quick read, just okay 
19. Whalefall by Daniel Kraus—haunting and riveting, oddly enough 
20. Wolf Bride by Elizabeth Moss—wolf wolf 
21. Her Christmas Pleasure by Karen Erickson—when I needed a little smutty kick 
22. Warrior Girl Unearthed by Angeline Boulley—BOTM, hated the first couple of pages the first time and dropped it; glad I tried it again, I adored it 
23. The Case of the Swirling Killer Tornado (Hank the cowdog number 25) by John R. Erickson—I love Hank the cowdog and Jarrod was late back home so I raided his bookshelf 
24. The Red Pyramid by Rick Riordan—Ben’s favorite book so I decided to check out 
25. Women of Good Fortune by Sophie Wan—I like it, it’s like a wedding heist story 

Other:

1. Great short poems from around the world by Bob Blaisdell (editor) 
2. The Doors of Perception by Aldous Huxley—essay about time on mescaline 
3. They Called Us Enemy by George Takei—nonfiction graphic novel 
4. Something’s Wrong! A Bear, a Hare, and Some Underwear by Jory John—picture book; Tula and I read many, but this one was worth mentioning 

Nonverbal

 Nonverbal 

Brows furrowed over deeply serious eyes, he uses his pointer finger to scrub the video to precisely 16 seconds into the ad. The tip of a raspberry tongue stuck out in concentration, he pushes Play.

“I don’t want to eat garbage, dad.” 

Remy the Rat has spoken, but it’s Rhett’s eyes that meet mine, insistent.

“It’s not garbage; it’s eggs. And I’m not making you anything else.” 

Rhett scowls, tapping the back of his first two fingers against his forehead.

“You call me stupid again, I’m gonna take that iPad away.” 

He continues to scowl, but puts his hands down. I go back to wiping off the kitchen counters. 

Forlorn, he pokes at the unwanted eggs with a spoon, willing them to be different. He looks up at me and decides to chance it again. “Duh-UH.” His voice is loud, lilting up at the end so I recognize this is a question.

“We can’t have donuts every day. The eggs are good, try them.” I do not sound convincing as the longer they sit there, the colder and more rubbery they become. The effort must be made, for his health. 

Rhett holds up both hands and flicks them a couple of times so the palms face me. I sigh, defeated.

“All done, huh? Not even one bite?” 

He dumps the cold eggs on the table.

“Okay, fine. We’ll get a donut. But tomorrow, we try something new, alright? Man cannot live on donuts alone. That’s Biblical!” He’s not even listening to me, gloating as he is in his victory. “Go get your shoes on, before I change my mind. Spoiled little monkey.”  

I’m rewarded for this defeat by a round of bouncing happy-flappies before he walks on his tiptoes towards the car.  

  ****

“We’re all gonna die!” screams a VeggieTales pea from his iPad. 

I don’t take my eyes off the road. “I’m not driving that fast, can you chill?” He giggles at his little joke and kicks his feet, playing the clip a couple more times. He is just as tickled every time. 

“What kind of donut do you want?” I ask as though I do not know the answer. 

“Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch.” Rhett’s response sounds like cheerful little maracas, rhythmic as a shimmy. 

“Chocolate? Again? They have so many good flavors, we could try something new. Like sour cream, or blueberry. You like blueberries.” 

He grinds his teeth loudly, the muscle working in his jaw. I’m transported back to early mornings on the lake, where the catfish call is so pronounced I can almost smell the bait. “Dude, can you stop? You’re making my face hurt just listening to it.” He chops one hand across the other. “Yeah, stop. All your teeth are gonna fall out.” He wasn’t agreeing with me though, just repeating; the grind continues until I hand back a silicone Lego necklace, an acceptable substitute.

The donut shop is brightly lit and overtly pink. It reminds me of the Barbie book I had as a kid where she opened an ice cream shop. The smell is yeasty and sweet, permeating the whole building. Rhett bounds up to the counter and loudly, proudly requests “DUH-uh!” 

A middle-aged woman is at the counter. She looks shocked for a minute, but turns on a hundred-watt smile. Speaking slowly and enunciating clearly, she says to him, “HELLO THERE. ARE…YOU….HERE…WITH…YOUR…MOMMY?” 

Rhett rocks back on his toes for a second. He is looking at the woman as if she is going to rear back and bite him. Nevermind that he has several inches and thirty pounds on her. I come up beside him and the woman turns her full attention on me as though Rhett suddenly vanished.

“Welcome to Bab’s Bakery, what can I get for you?” 

I turn to Rhett and ask “chocolate?” He doesn’t look at me as he whispers “ch-ch-ch-ch-ch.” 

“Can we get an order of chocolate donut holes? And a decaf coffee, black.” 

Bab starts punching in the order and filling the bag. “How old is he?” 

“Oh. Um. He’ll be 16 at the end of the month.” 

“16! He’s so tall though! My Chaz didn’t get that tall, but I suppose neither am I.” She gives a little chuckle. ``16 though. My gosh. Has he always been…” she trails off significantly, but I refuse to bail her out. “You know….like this?” Her voice has dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. 

My smile feels as thin as nori, and just as friable. “Yup. He was born this way.” 

“Oh, well bless your heart. I don’t know how you handle it. My friend Deb had a daughter who was, you know we didn’t have a name for it back then and everybody nowadays it feels like has this or that, but anyway: Deb’s girl, Ruby. They had to put her in one of those homes where there’s other people like her, and I mean, I heard it was nice; it wasn’t one of those bad ones. Ruby got to do arts and crafts and I think they had movie nights and she had her own room. Are you going to put him in a place like that? Your total is $4.58, dear.” 

I hand her the five I’ve been holding and take the coffee, squeezing it just a little too tight so the lid pops off. “We haven’t really discussed it.” Rhett rocks back and forth on his feet, staring out the window. He’s very quiet, and one hand has wound its way into his hair like he hasn’t done since he was a baby. 

Bab continues on as she punches buttons on the register, “well, better sooner than later. Y'all come back and see us sometime! GOOD…. BYE….. BUDDY!” she half-screams. 

Rhett carries the little baggie of donut holes to the car, dropping it on the floor and ignoring it. Donuts roll out on the floor. I don’t correct him as I back us out of the parking lot. 

We drive home in silence.

Meet the Berries

When my beloved CS Lewis (rabbit, not famed author) was better after his illness, Michael got me a bushel of baby girl bunnies to keep him company. Rabbits are highly social, so they do better in groups. Easter weekend last year, we added Seafairy, Kelda, and Merry the Blueberry to our pet pantheon. 

My sister Amber had two rabbits that I ended up assimilating as well—Turbo, a tiny little gentleman rabbit that looks as though he’d been gnawed on (because he had) and Biggie Smalls, CS Lewis’s uncle. 

It was my goal when the girls got old enough to breed one litter before getting the boys neutered. We were blessed with a litter from Merry Berry in late summer of four perfect little kits, but a bacterial infection cut through the nest, ending all four. It was so sad. 

We took Biggie in to get neutered and found out that he had cancer riddling his little man body. The prognosis was just a few months. We decided not to put him through the trauma of a surgery when he was in his final run. He passed away New Year’s Day. 

January 18th we found out that as sick as that old man was, doesn’t mean he wasn’t still tryin (and succeeding) to toss some game toward my girls. My Merry Berry proudly showed me what she had made: 11 tiny little kits. 

There are a couple of things you should know about rabbits. The first is that the female rabbits have two uteruses (uteri?) and their gestational period is only about a month. They can hold two litters at a time and get pregnant again within hours of giving birth. Because of this, an unaltered adult pair of rabbits can have up to 200 kits a year. 

How are we not overrun by rabbits, then? This brings us to our second thing you should know:

Rabbits love to die.

It has to be their favorite pastime, because rabbits die a lot. My vet friend said a lot of vets won’t even see them once because “they sneeze once and then fall over dead.” They are prey animals that are susceptible to disease and predators and weather changes and just their own stupidity; 40% of all litters are estimated to die. Instead of evolving so that they don’t die every time, they just rapid fire out offspring and hope that at least one sticks around to carry on the family line.

Merry Berry actually had two full litters that day. Average litter sizes are 2-10, but it’s hard to feed that many at one time. One litter was healthy and robust, four rotund white cotton balls with tummies bulging with milk and teeny limbs branching out. The other 7 were notably premature. They were small and thin, bony, but the worst sign was: they were chilled. Baby bunnies that are cold is a bad sign for their survival chances. We tried our hardest, and I’m happy to say that three actually made it. I wish we could have saved them all, but I will not dismiss the victory because it was incomplete. Two little blacks and one tiny white survived.

They will be three weeks old on the 8th. Their eyes are now open, as are their ears, and they are starting to explore. This is both the cutest time and the most wrangling because they are so curious and mischievous, getting out and about. 

Which means it’s time to introduce you, and to get your opinion.

Know that: rabbit genitals at this point are super tiny, so we can’t sex them yet. It’s really kind of a best guess scenario until their testicles descend. So I use whatever pronoun suits me at the moment for any of them, as I will in the descriptions below. 

FLUFFERNUTTER

This bunny is: The fattest. His fur is longer so he looks even bigger than he is, but don’t let that fool you—he’s also humongous. He’s the one that wants you to pick him up whenever you open the cage, and when you do he will settle down to sleep on your chest like he owns the place, purring and swaying contentedly. His name was picked out by my aide at work, who asked if she could name one—Fluffernutter just suited him. 

LILLY LITTLE

Tula named this one—she is the second smallest; Tula couldn’t decide between Lilly and Emily, but when she saw how tiny this one was, Tula knew she had to be Lilly Little. Her personality is very chill and timid, like her Aunt Kelda. Not very into cuddles, she seems most at home in the nest and doesn’t venture out as much as the others. She is one of the premies, and survived solely because the next one decided that they should never be apart; he kept her warm until she was big enough on her own. 

SISQO

This one was named because he’s got dumps like a truck, truck, truck and thighs like what, what, what. He’s just as fat as Fluffernutter, but it’s harder to tell because he’s not as fluffy. He can usually be found laying on his back, his legs stuck out through the bars of the cage, dead asleep with Lilly Little curled into his side. Rabbits don’t, as a general rule, sleep on their backs. They do however nurse on their backs—their mother just hops into the nest and stands there while all of the babies wriggle into position. He got so swollen on the many milks that his ineffectual arms couldn’t flip his corpulent body back over, so he just got into the habit of sleeping upside down.

ST VINCENT AND THE GRENADINES 

Of course Ben named this one. Who else? 

This was the first rabbit named, because it is a -terror-. First out of the nest, this shenanigans factory will explore as far as she can before she gets caught. When she is caught, she will nip at you with her comically new baby teeth and wiggle, hurling herself in any and all directions. The exception is when Ben picks her up. She immediately turns into melted bunilla ice cream in his hands. St Vin is going to be a handful, as she has been the first to squeeze her body out of the cage, first to eat real food, and the first to square up against me. 

MISSY JUMPER

While we are on the topic of disasters, this is Missy Jumper. Missy because of the Doctor Who character. 

 Jumper because she has won the gold medal in long jump, if the “long jump” can be characterized as ineptly hurling yourself in any direction and ingloriously bellyflopping on arrival. She is active, does not like being held because she got places to be, and is the only other black bun from the litter.

LEBUN JAMES

This one was hard to get a picture of, which is why I’m holding him like a burrito. This is LeBun James. He’s the last of the big whites. He likes to burrow and hide, usually under his siblings, and was voted Most Likely to Burrow So We Panic and Think There Is a Bunny Missing But He’s Just Tucked Himself In. Thats why he’s hard to get a picture of—he immediately tries to stick his face somewhere. If you hold him and cup your hand over his head, he will be quite the happy little bunlet.

And last but not least….

????? 

I don’t have a name yet. There’s always one. She (or he!) is the preemie white who kind of flies under the radar. They get peed on because it seems like everyone just kind of…forgets they’re there. This bun is gentle and sweet, quiet, agreeable, just kind of dunked on little feller. He’s soft it is almost unreal. 

This where you come in. 

If you have any suggestions for what this little critter could be named, let us know. It would be awfully tragic if Little Miss Noname stuck because we had plumbed the depths of monikers right on the last one. 

No meat names though. These aren’t eating rabbits, they are buddy rabbits. 

All our bunnies are pleased to make your acquaintance. Merry Berry is happy you’re here and asks (demands) that you pay feasance first by providing the Queen Mother pets or you will suffer the consequences (irritate nipping). She also accepts offerings of blueberries, as is only right, and clover. 

Love from the burrow,

-Andie- 

A Goodbye

 Dear Cees,

I held you on the first day you were born. 

It was April 22nd, 2022. Benjamin ran in from outside and said “I need help! A lot of babies are coming out of Sans.” I ran out, and sure enough, there were a lot of babies. Ten little Voldemort-looking pink wiggly things, all piled on top of one another inside a cardboard box too small for them. 

We carefully gathered up your mother Sans’s removed fur and put it in a more steady box, and we hoped she would know enough and care enough to take care of you. Your father, Timmy the Destroyer, never took much interest in you kits, but Uncle Tucker would set up camp outside the box and check in on you now and again. 

After your runt sibling didn’t make it, something seemed to click in San’s head because she started feeding and caring for you remaining nine. 

Every day, I would go out and take a video log of how you were growing and changing. 

I saw as your eyes opened, and your little bunny ears. I watched you take your first tentative steps outside your nursery hutch, began to explore the world around you on shaky little legs and too-big feet. 

You were curious. You wanted to see the grass outside the hopparena. That is how you ended up on our radar, distinguishing yourself from your brothers and sisters. Because an old woman, long since past her bearing years, had been watching the new mother and her babies with longing, and she just wanted to be a part of it, too.

Mikasa didn’t mean to hurt you. She just scooped you up because you were the one outside the cage, and she so wanted a baby of her own. She could have chomped down on you like a chicken nugget, but she carried you in her mouth with such tenderness and care until Ben found you and rescued you.

You were a bit crunchy and curly from dog saliva, and so very thankful to be alive as I checked you for injury. 

Ever after that, you lived for moments with us, your humans. You never again ventured outside the cage, even when your siblings got bigger and went exploring. The only sojourn you would make was to the backdoor, where you would lay on the cold cement by the screen and wait for it to swing open. 

Whenever we did come out for a visit, you would be our little shadow, following behind. Setting up camp in our laps or by our feet, showing us how you bathed and binkied. You liked it when I read to you or sang, making your tiny little contented noises. 

After your ordeal, you also had your name: C.S. Lewis. I had been telling my friend Andrew about you, and he called you C.S. It stuck, even if I always called you Cees. 

You were the last one. As your brothers and sisters got older, they moved on to their forever homes. Some we lost along the way. Rabbits are so strong and still so very fragile; they were not meant for environs such as these, with its relentless heat and wild predators. There is a reason God made bunnies to reproduce like they do, as only 40% of any litter will make it to adulthood.

You knew you were safe, though. Because you had us, the ones that had saved you before. You trusted so fully in us to save you again. 

As you got older, I worried you would be lonely without other bunnies in your hutch. You never seemed to suffer for it, though. When the weather was nice, I would lay out in the grass with you. You were my quiet place--I would press my forehead to yours, and you would close your eyes and rub my nose with yours in little bunny kisses. At night, I would bring you in to lay down with me and cuddle before I went to bed and you went back to your hutch. Every morning, I would take you around and you’d wake up the kids with me. You liked your family, your yard that grew so wild and full. 

When you got sick, I was so scared. You were so scared. But I sang to you and you remembered: these are the people that take care of me. You moved toward the sound of my voice, even as you struggled for every breath. I raged at God, accusing Him of making such a cruel disease for such a helpless animal. I called Him unkind and told Him that He better make my rabbit well again. 

And He did. 

You got better. 

You had lost half your body weight, just a little wisp of a guy. But you were still my joyful boy, fighting to stay with us. 

The sickness ended up costing you an eye and two teeth. It looked like it was so painful, but you were still you--binkying, purring, chattering you. 

I took you to school with me, tucked into my jacket as I taught. The kids asked about your eye, and learned how brave a fighter you were. They all wanted to pet you. You liked getting the attention, and you liked not being left home alone. 

After you had been given the all-clear, we brought home three little bunny girls for your companions. How happy you were! They were already, at three months, so much stronger and healthier and bigger than you at a year, but they doted on you. Merry Berry nurtured you; Seafairy played with you. 

But to Kelda, you were her bunny. She was born blind in her left eye, and you had lost your right. You were probably the first half-blind rabbit she had met that was like her. She would set up on your blind side and you would watch out for each other. She got aggressive if she thought anyone was taking your attention away from her, and would fight her sister to keep Seafairy away from you. 

Even with repeated procedures, you weren’t getting any better. We knew every day with you was a blessing because most rabbits would have died if they had gone through half of what you did. But you still looked up at me like I was your world, put your forehead to mine and gave me those little bunny kisses.

After you died, I asked Amber if she believed in heaven. I am still learning and growing, because the Things Unseen part of the Bible, the mystical part…it is harder for me. Whatever I believe or do not believe about the Afterlife does not alter the reality of what is yet to come. I figure any imaginings I have therefore are for my own comfort, and I will otherwise have to wait and see. 

After I lost you, I like to imagine that you ran into my vision of heaven. It is a quiet stream, a place of rest, because you so need rest. You were so tired. If Heaven can be anything, it can be simultaneous and timeless. So you didn’t have to wait for me at all. You ran right back into my arms. You put your little forehead to mine. And you gave me your little bunny kisses. And I sang you Home.

I love you, C.S. Lewis. Thank you for everything. I won’t ever forget you. 

--Andie 

I have been taking this week hard. I have cried a lot for a sweet creature that made me his world. How strange and awful and wonderful it is to be human, so that we can experience such levels of grief over something so small, so fleeting. There has been a lot of feelings of guilt. He trusted me to save him, and I wasn’t able to this time. That maybe if I wasn’t so selfish, I wouldn’t have let him suffer this long. I bargained and broke. I just wanted my bunny back. 

Sad as it is to say, I resented the other three rabbits for being the wrong rabbit. They, of course the little perceptive creatures they are, picked up on it. Seafairy hissed at me, Kelda whimpered when I came close, and Merry Berry tried to box me. I have been working to rebuild the trust and relationship with them--I’m not ready yet to sing, but I have read to them. Kelda came and sat by my foot, Seafairy came and put her forehead on mine. 

This letter was recommended in an article I saw online as a way to process the hurt caused by the loss of a beloved pet. I didn’t get C.S. long enough, not nearly. But I am so very thankful to have had him in my life. He was what I needed, when I needed it the most. I hope wherever he is, he knows what he meant to me, and that he is at peace. I sat with my sweet boy as he took his last breath, surrounded by love. This letter is my goodbye.