Rabbits are...

Rabbits are baller pets.

Well, mine is, anyway.

I’ve always had a dog in my life. Growing up, I had the most beautiful dog in the world. I know everyone says that about their family pets, but she was a stunning corgi-collie mix, and she was a real part of the family. She joined the household when I was six, and we had to put her down when I was twenty-two. It was like losing a sister, and it still makes me teary-eyed.

I’m getting way off-track. I could literally spend hours going on and on about how amazing our dog was—and I do, regularly, whenever someone vaguely mentions their dog in passing. But this post is about rabbits and how baller they are.

During my first year of university, I wanted a pet. I missed having a furry companion to sit with and talk at, but I was living in residence—dogs were a definite no, cats were borderline, and turtles and their tanks were hidden under boxes whenever the cleaning staff came through. When it was finally time to leave the zoo (aka my awful first year residence), I expressed an interest in getting a dog to my parents.

They were vehemently opposed to it. They loved dogs, but they figured I didn’t quite understand the full responsibility of proper dog ownership. That didn’t stop me from trolling online ads for rescue dogs, and clicking through shelter pictures whenever I had a free moment.

Second year university hit, and my housemates and I were a mess. We got along really well, but two moved out for various reasons—and the rest of us were stuck with a random Indian man getting his PhD at forty. Suffice to say that it didn’t exactly leave us in the best situation for me to throw a pet into the mix.

Third year. New house, two new roommates—one with fur allergies. I later learned she had several dogs on her farm, and just put up with the occasional itchy eyes because she loved them. However, that year my roomies were even more of a mess, and one ended up taking the brunt of all the house problems—not conducive for dog-hood yet again.

Fourth year had some better opportunities. The neighbourhood condo association permitted dogs in the rentals, and the house was mammoth; I don’t think I’ll ever had a room that size again. But it donned on me that I probably wasn’t home enough for a dog, as much as it killed me. Plus, at the time, I could still go home to see my stunner—my arthritic, half-blind, half-deaf stunner who was nearing the end of her life.

So, I broadened the search. I could afford a pet who was considered “low-maintenance”, and initially looked at birds. “Shit and feathers,” my mom told me, and I steered clear of them. Lizards don’t want to cuddle. My roommate hated cats.

And then I landed on bunnies. Rabbits can live for almost a decade with proper care. They are social animals who don’t need more than a yearly vet check-up (as long as their health stays good), and the monthly upkeep of their environment doesn’t cost much.

And they are cute. So cute.

I bit the bullet and went to a pet rescue before moving into the fourth year house. I found my Polish rabbit there, and the shelter owner had him in a cage in the garage—along with twenty other cages with shivering bunnies in it. She put that little bundle into my arms, and even though he did nothing but shake, I knew I wanted him.

Rabbits take some getting used to. And by some, I mean a lot. If you’re doing it right, you have a massive area of your house dedicated to their free time. They need exercise, and leaving them in a cage all day is unrealistic. Bored bunnies are destructive bunnies, just like every other living thing out there. I think I wanted to cry in frustration when my bun wouldn't stop chewing the bars of his enclosure for the first week--before I realized he needed more time to run around outside said enclosure. So, in retrospect, I was lucky to have such a massive room in that fourth year house: more half of it went to the bunny speedway.

Coming from a dog-owner perspective, I wasn’t used to my pet running from me. I wasn’t used to him hiding under my bed or chewing my textbooks. (Though, to be fair, I suppose a dog can do all of those things too.) Rabbits are most active at night, the early morning, and the late evening. They sleep during the day, which is great when you’re away in class or stuck at that shitty 9-5. They have delicate backs and can’t see directly in front of them—aha to the superiority (?) of stereoscopic vision!

Rabbits are baller because they make you a better person. To have a fulfilling relationship with one, you need to learn to speak rabbit. You need to do your research, and you need to adjust to them—you, predator, must adapt to them, prey. They don’t want to be picked up, but they really appreciate it when you get down on the floor and let them shove their face into yours. They like to groom your things because they think they’re doing you a favour. You learn to be quiet. You learn to appreciate small gestures. You learn to be patient.  

Also, they are cute as fuck when they clean their ears.

People don’t realize what incredibly social, expressive animals rabbits can be. They like routine, but my rabbit’s routine involves lounging in bed with me before I turn in, alternating between grooming the covers and my pajamas while I read. They love to explore, even if they are tentative about it, and eventually warm up to new spaces. When they’re really happy, they chatter their teeth—similar to a cat purring. Rubbing their face will earn you bonus points.

They litterbox train themselves. Yup. Not messy, unless you give them copious amounts of hay—as you should—and they drag that all over the house, stuck to their stupid little feet.

Sure, there can be headaches too. They eat their poop, which is both disgusting and awesome—mostly disgusting, but awesome because you don’t have to clean up those particular gross poops. They chew wires, not realizing they can get electrocuted and then die. They stop misbehaving when you tell them off, and then resume the behaviour two minutes later when they think you aren’t watching. They bolt across the room to safety for no reason whatsoever, giving you both a heart attack and an overwhelming feeling of guilt that you did something wrong.

But rabbits are baller. They love you, you silly human. You are part of their colony. They will groom your things, flop out beside you while you work, and zoom around the room while leaping in ecstasy—again, for no discernable reason. They are appreciative of great owners, and have individual quirks and personalities. (With that in mind, pay attention to what shelter workers have to say when you pick your bun out—personalities do matter, more so than breeds in some situations.)

Don’t knock them until you try them. They aren’t low-maintenance pets. You still need to clean their litterbox and cage area. I spend way too much each week on fresh veggies for my fatty. But after living on my own for the first time after university ended, I'm so happy to have my rabbit in my life. He makes me feel less lonely, and isn't that the point of animal companionship? Bunnies are worth all the time and effort you put in earning their trust—and it takes a while, believe me. But you’ll have it for life, and what’s better than that?

Can’t get a dog because reasons? Why not rabbit?!