Friday, August 3, 2012
The last time I blogged about my life I was stuck in a strange in-between space that I did not like. I had two apartments and hadn't moved into the new one yet. I just got the bunny and was freaking out about being able to take care of him. I can't believe it was not even a month ago. So much has changed, and I am incredibly grateful that July is over. I was straining to get to the end of that month.
Sherlock and I are settling in to the new apartment. After a year in Louisville I have finally acquired all the things I need to feel like a stable person again and not a wandering lost soul. I have a table, book cases filled with books, two chairs, a bed, and a small kitchen with a tiny little washing machine that hooks up to the kitchen sink, which I love because I enjoy nothing more than doing laundry (the tone of that last bit is not sarcastic, but very earnest). I have trash cans and closet space, I have a couple of small bread stones for the tiny oven, and I have nice pictures for the wall. I have five plants, a fish, and of course, my bunny.
I was worried about not being able to take care of him correctly, but I've done all my research as well as become acquainted with him and his needs, and I think he's a pretty happy little bun. I took him to the vet last week and he came back with a clean bill of health and nicely trimmed nails. I loved the experience. I loved how the vet manhandled the bun during the check up and poor Sherlock was just appalled at the vet's impertinence. His legs were going every which way, his fur was all fluffed up and he stared at me with the saddest, widest little eyes. I couldn't help but laugh at the poor little guy.
I'm learning that he loves his routine and that boundaries make him happy. He wakes me up every single morning at 7am without fail. He'll try everything to make a lot of noise, but the most effective alarm is when he picks up his empty food dish and drops it crashing to floor, over and over again until I get out of bed. I'm sure the downstairs neighbor loves it. He had a problem peeing on the new rug and the vet told me that bunnies don't mark their territory, they just are too lazy to go back to their litter boxes, so I got him a new box and put it on the rug and he only gets to use it during play time, and I give him a treat when he does use it. He loves it more than anything. He'll sleep in it, push up the bedding into a nice little pillow and flop over. Now that he's got used to the new apartment, I think keeping him in the pen actually makes him happier because play time is more meaningful. The pen I got him is just a puppy play pen and it takes up half of the room, so he already has plenty of space.
I've also taught him a trick. We're clicker training now and he will go through a cardboard tunnel and into his favorite litter box when I say "tunnel" for a click and a piece of banana. It has taken a couple of weeks, but I am hoping that if we just work on things bit by bit he'll be able to do a whole obstacle course at some point.
He makes me happy, and even though things worked out so that I can't go back to Utah this summer, at least I have the little bun here to entertain me. My friends say I've been happier since I got him, and I think it's true, especially now that we can start settling down a little bit into a routine that will give me time and space to work. Nothing makes me happier than having this desk in front of my big bay window looking out over Belgravia Court with my little bunny at my feet. I've been pretty sad this week since Amanda was only here for a day and I can't go home (also, may I make the recommendation not to watch Dancer in the Dark on the day you are feeling particularly sad. That movie was stunning, but it broke my heart and made me sob uncontrollably for an hour. It took three days to get over it.) But even though I've felt sad, I'm really grateful for my new apartment and my bunny, and I'm hopeful for the next few months, and for the next few years that I'll be here.