“He’s just a bunny.”
I’ve gotten that answer from a lot of people when I talk about my furry creature. To be fair, I love ALL furry/feathered/scaled/hairless animals. Unfortunately, if your pet isn’t a cat or dog, they’re taken less seriously by pet retailers, some veterinarians and the general public.
Animals like Morrison are treated like “expendable pets.” I’ve spoken to many people who assume rabbits have a short lifespan of only a year or two. They’re advertised as “animals that belong in cages” by most chain pet stores.
That’s so far from the truth—my lionhead rabbit, Morrison, is living proof of that.
Rabbits are smart. Really smart.
Morrison is a three-year-old ball of energy. He’s completely litterbox trained. I can’t remember how long it took him to learn, but it was probably under a month or so. He knows where he goes!
He also knows his schedule to a T. My little monster will literally jump onto my bed at 7 a.m. and lick me awake to get his breakfast.
He sings for his supper—or his salad, or his breakfast or for the various “nanner” (aka banana) slices he gets for treats.
If his meals aren’t on time? My little Karen will tell me all about it. In “bunny language,” their feet-thumping is the equivalent of a certain four-letter word.
He isn’t always a “can I speak to your manager” brat. In fact, he’s one of the cuddliest, most loving and loyal animals that I’ve ever owned.
I grew up with a crazy, Cujo-esque corgi named Kramer. I loved that dog like a brother (maybe because I’m that weirdo, only child). But I could probably count the number of times that he licked me—he wasn’t very affectionate.
Morrison? He probably gives me upwards of 500 daily kisses. When he wants a “grooming session,” he takes it seriously. These sessions are how rabbits communicate with each other, and are even how they establish social dominance.
Morrison is 10/10 the boss of me, I’m just his mom. But I’m his mom who loves him to the moon and back.
This summer, Morrison gave me one of the biggest scares of my life. Without going too far into the medical details, he had an emergency GI stasis episode caused by spurs on his molar teeth. He wasn’t eating or pooping at all. Rabbits have extremely delicate digestive systems, and if they go for more than eight hours without consuming food and passing stool… well, it can be fatal.
He was hospitalized at an emergency vet hospital for five days. It was a terrifying and gut-wrenching time for me (pun unintended). I can’t imagine how Morrison felt, sick and suddenly stuck with IV tubes, far away from home.
I’ve had Morrison since 2018. I got him from a family friend during my sophomore year of college, which was a rough time mentally and emotionally. I took him in without thinking much about it. Little did I know that the tiny, five-month-old furball would become my closest companion.My little fighter pulled through this summer, and all’s well that ends well! He’s got a long lifespan ahead of him. If rabbits are properly taken care of, they can live up to 10 years or more. Maybe Morrison will make it to 27, like his namesake—who knows!
All I know is that he’s not “just a bunny.” He’s my very best friend (who will be getting his highly anticipated, daily salad as soon as I finish writing this sentence).
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