“One bunny salad coming up!”
Yumm. I, Lily, love a good bunny salad. Our mistresses always make them with the freshest and most delicious ingredients: crisp parsley, fresh dandelions, sunny marigold petals… As I joined Mango and Willow at the bowl, I sniffed in all the delicious smells.
Mango and Willow were already scarfing down the salad. Diamond joined us briefly, and then hopped off in search of… I don’t know. A piece of straw or something. She’s a strange bunny.
“Awww, look at Willow! She’s such a cute little flufferpuff!”
Grrr. They’re always talking about Willow. Ever since I got back from the fair it’s been the same story: Willow is the star of the show, the life of the party, and I’m always just in the background. I once had a good life – I was a model, a cherished pet… but now, that life is gone. I don’t even see what’s so cute about a rabbit so fluffy you can hardly see her face. And another thing: my mistress always goes on about how Willow is so easy to hold, where as I, on the other hand, always scratch when she picks me up. What’s wrong about a rabbit that has a little spirit? It disgusts me how Willow just lets herself be taken over by humans. Speaking of humans…
“Hey, let’s give Willow a willow branch!”
Look. Willow is eating her namesake. How cute… NOT! I couldn’t take this any more. I huffed over to a corner where I could think about the troubles in life in privacy. Joy the cat was snarling and growling over a piece of Willow fluff. Suddenly she turned and looked at me.
“What’s wrong with you, Lily? You seem to be in a foul mood lately.”
“Humph. I’m not in a foul mood.”
“Yes you are. Really, what’s eating you?”
“Uh… mosquitos? Nothing, Joy, it’s nothing.” I hesitated. “It’s just… it’s just that Willow gets so much attention and I don’t get any.”
“Ahhh,” purred Joy wisely. “Well, think ahead – someday you will be a mother of a fine litter of baby bunnies, and think how much attention you’ll get then.”
Hmmm, that was so. After all, I am a purebred New Zealand, and Willow is only a mixed breed. Someday I would be a proud mother rabbit, and she would still just be a pet.
I looked back at Willow. The humans had finally went away, leaving peaceful silence behind them. She looked, I don’t know, a little droopy. She hopped slowly over to me.
“Can I snuggle with you, Lily?” she asked wistfully. “I’m tired of being held.”
I didn’t answer. But Willow hopped over anyway, invading my space with her fluffiness.
She sighed, “I like snuggling with you. I love you, Lily.”
She looked up at me with her fluffy little face and my heart began to melt. She was awfully sweet. But how did I know she wasn’t just putting on a false front to get me under her paws? Finally, I sighed.
“You know Willow, I love you too. Even if you are cuter and cuddlier than me, and even though you do get more attention. I guess I don’t get much attention because I choose not to be cuddly. Maybe you could give me lessons sometime, how about it?” But Willow was already asleep, tired out from being cute and cuddly. “Sweet dreams, little flufferpuff,” I whispered, “sweet dreams.”
***Allison*** (With Lily and Willow)
Also, when we figure Olaf out, I will put up a page of bunny profiles on my blog.
Allison Marie 