I Loved Lucy

My rabbit Lucy died yesterday of an apparent stroke. She was about ten and a half years old and had been my companion since January, 2001.

When I developed cancer and started receiving chemo, I would rest on the sofa with Lucy laying on my chest. I would rub her head and she would reciprocate by licking my face. Those were some very peaceful, relaxing moments; all the stress and angst in me would drain away.

I loved that little rabbit and will miss her greatly.

A Little Rabbit Named Skittles

Take a look at the photo below, The white, spotted rabbit on the left is a dwarf lop named Skittles:


This photo is over twelve years old; it shows Skittles next to his "cage mate," a Dutch dwarf called Scooter. Both Skittles and Scooter were two of the four rabbits owned by me and my previous wife Tina. The other three, including Scooter, died since Tina and I separated. And a couple of days ago Tina told me Skittles also died. He was over 13 years old.

In the grand scheme of things, the death of a rabbit is not a major event. Skittles was a very small and insignificant part of the universe.

But I remember how playful and curious he was when he was young. The shape of his mouth, including the fur color, made him look like he was always smiling. When he lay in my lap and I petted his head, it was as if all the tension and angst would drain right out of me. He would lick my fingers and rub his chin against me, which is what rabbits do when they want to mark something as theirs.

Yes, Skittles was small and insignificant, but so are subatomic particles like quarks, leptons, and bosons. When added together, they make up everything in the universe. And when you add together the happiness and fun that creatures like Skittles bring into life, the result is just as incredible. Add up all your interactions with animals like Skittles, and add to that your interactions with your friends and family, and you suddenly realize what the point of life is, what gives our existence here purpose. The meaning of life is not found in grandiose plans or by acquiring a ton of bling you can't take with you when you die. Instead, it is found in accumulating as many small, everyday joys as possible, like the joy of holding a cute little rabbit who wants nothing more than to play with you for a while.

Skittle was a sweet little boy and I'm going to really miss him.

A Rabbit Named Lucy

The little lady at left is Lucy. Lucy has been an important part of my life since early 2001.

She's accompanied me from California to Las Vegas and finally to Texas, and has never failed to be an amusing companion every step of the way.


She is curious, playful, amiable, and a very gentle little soul.

Rabbits make fantastic pets if they are neutered or spayed; I like to say they're like cats that don't go "meow" all the time. Like cats, they are very clean, don't smell, and can be trained to use a litter box (it's natural behavior for them, since they reserve a corner of their warrens as a communal bathroom).


Rabbits have some fascinating behaviors. One is how they love to be rubbed on their heads, and Lucy insists that I do that to her. She will hop up to me, stick her head forward (called "presenting" the head), and grunt at me until I gently rub her head some (she prefers the area between her eyes!). Another behavior is how they will rub you with the undersides of their chins. They have glands under their chins which secrete a smell they can detect, and do so to mark their territory. When Lucy rubs her chin on my foot or hand, she is saying, in effect, "you belong to me!". And Lucy will also lick my hand, much like a dog.


Lucy can make herself comfortable almost anywhere----at left, you can see her resting atop my Drake R8B shortwave radio. She also likes to rest on my chest, extend her head forward, and have me rub it.

There is something very relaxing about rabbits. Their fur is so soft and their manner is gentle; it's impossible to be angry or upset when you're holding a rabbit. Lucy has been a big comfort during my cancer treatments, and I'm thankful she's a part of my life.