Lately, Gilda has been acting out. She moves her litter pan around the cage (though she still uses it, thank god), tears up the drop cloth in her enclosure, and doesn't allow me to pick her up. I know that bunnies are not as affectionate as dogs, or even cats. But it's a tad depressing when you can't even pet your pet.
So when my parents came to pick her up last weekend, it should have been a big relief. I'm going to be out of town next week, and this was the most convenient time for them to come collect my little charge. Once we had moved her cage, I took the opportunity to sweep and mop her area. Now there's nothing but an empty corner where the little miscreant used to dwell.
I miss her so much.
When I get up in the morning I usually say, "Good morning, Gil." When I leave for the day, I admonish her to "Be good!" Sometimes, when I'm lying in bed at night, I tell her my troubles. Yes, I know it's insane to be talking to a rabbit. A rambunctious (dare I say, rascally?) rabbit, at that. But I can't wait for my parents to bring her back in two weeks, so I can hear that familiar scrabbling when I return from work and say, "I'm home."