Yohanon's ramblings: The problem with pets (Good bye, Frankie)

I had until the day after Pesach 5770, a small rabbit.

I was told he was an "American Polish Dwarf" - Oryctolagus cuniculus.

Franklyn, also known as Frankie, Frank, and You Rotten Rabbit depending on what mischief he'd managed, came into the household when he was just two weeks old.

My #2 son, Dodi, complained that his siblings had had pets, but he didn't.

What do you want, his mother asked, adding "no dogs or cats." She was thinking in terms of gerbils (#1 son's pet) or fish or finches (both belonging to our daughter).

"I want a rabbit," he told her. Where can we get a rabbit? "Our neighbors have a bunny they want to sell," said #2, being prepared. Turns out the neighbors bought two rabbits thinking they both were females. Opps. Suddenly they had a litter of rabbits.

Frankie was the runt of the litter and was the only remaining kitten when #2 discovered the opportunity.

Reluctantly, the mother caved and agreed to #2's appeal. The three kids and I piled into the flivver and drove over to the neighbors to collect the rabbit.

I handed the unintended breeder his fee - $10 - and he tried to hand the kitten to #2. Problem was, #2 was afraid he'd hurt the bunny. Not so his younger sister who took him and cuddled him; instant bonding.

A few days in a box and acquaintance with a rapidly growing Great Dane puppy dropped by with the puppy's cage - a 3'L by 2'W by 3'H cage that would be home for Frankie almost all the days of his life. Not that he stayed much in it. The puppy came by about a week after Frankie took possession . . . the pup put its nose near the cage and Frank gave a loud smack with his hind foot; the pup backed off.

Franklyn was almost always a gentle animal. He did "threaten" my daughter's mother - twice. She and daughter were horsing around on a couch they were sharing with the rabbit. Mother pushes daughter and rabbit lunges at the mother . . . not touching her, but showing displeasure. Neither could believe what they saw, so the "push" was repeated, and Franklyn once again charged the person he feared would hurt "his" mommy.

We moved from Florida to Virginia, the daughter, the mother, and me. The boys, both young adults, stayed in Florida. The rabbit stayed with the boys. Trouble was, Frankie had so bonded with the daughter - and vice versa - the daughter couldn't part company with him. The boys packed him and his home and drove him to Virginia.

Most of his years with us he shared space with me in a home office.

When I went to northern Virginia, he came with me.

When The Spouse and I relocated back to southeast Florida, Frankie came along, happy in a box on the back seat. (He was a good traveler; being in a moving vehicle had no impact on his appetite.)

We settled into the new house and all was great; he had a place in the kitchen nook where he was assured a cookie every morning and motzie at every Shabat meal. He wasn't in the office with me, but we still had plenty of "quality time."

But just before Pesach 5770 he started slowing down.

As Pesach neared its final days, he was unable to get up from lying on his side. Once propped up, he was mobile. But soon he was unable to manage even that. He had to be held to eat and drink, which was no problem, except that he couldn't move away from his waste. Eventually he lacked either energy or appetite to eat even his favorite veggies.

The day after Pesach I called several vet's offices until I found one who cared about rabbits. The vet took one look at Frankie and said "it's time."

How do you memorialize a rabbit? Just an animal. But an animal who gave - and received - unconditional love. A gibor bunny afraid of nothing; like Don Quixote ready to joust with windmills, that rotten rabbit held his ground against the noisiest vacuums. He tolerated young people who were not always as gentle as he liked and he never knew a stranger.

Frank's gone; all that's left is a photo . . . and this urge to take a piece of motze over to where a bunny once lived.

See http://yohanon.blogspot.com/2008/05/big-personality-in-small-body.html for an earlier, happier, entry about Franklyn.