A message from Jon

Jon was disappointed that he was not consulted for the farewell post (see below), so he asked me to post the following on his behalf:

This is written in memory of the Sogna girl, whose rascality will always be cherished.

I met Biff and Sogna sometime in the fall of 2009 shortly after meeting Lisa.  At the time, I had never encountered a pet bunny, nor had I ever envisioned myself as a rabbit owner.  Sogna and I got off to a rocky start.  Why?  Because she seemed to love jumping on me when I was in bed and right about to fall asleep.  She was also quite adept at placing her face an inch away from mine so as to maximize my shock when I opened my eyes.  But, as much as that might have bothered me, she won me over rather quickly. (Note that I eventually built a fortress around the bed to prevent her from jumping on me which was somewhat less than effective.)  We spent a lot of time together in that apartment on the lower east side.  Lisa and I would build bridges for her across the wooden floors so that she could run around and explore since she was not quite as proficient as Biff at zooming over the wooden surfaces.  She loved to bonk my ankles and be petted endlessly (especially if Biff was also being petted).  And, of course, she loved to eat.  She always had the appetite of a large whale and she wasn't afraid to show her excitement about eating or her disapproval of being fed more than thirty seconds late.

In the summer of 2010, Lisa, Biff, Sogna, and I moved to Queens to an apartment filled with lush carpeting and, what to a bunny would seem to be, extensive open fields.  In reality, of course, it was just our living room.  I met Lisa there on the first night after she had finished moving in most of her things.  The rascals were still in a cage in the middle of the mostly open living room.  At that point, we decided it would be safe to set them free and see how they reacted to their new home.  Within minutes both Biff and Sogna were zooming around the living room at full speed and binkying like there was no tomorrow.  It was especially nice to see the Sogna looking so athletic on the new carpet, since she had previously had some trouble on the wooden floors in the old apartment. 

And that was the start of almost two years in the apartment with Sogna.  In the time that we all lived together there, I witnessed Sogna act as though she was the happiest bunny in the world.  Since she lived freely at all times in the living room, she had countless places that she loved to go.  Under the couch, on the chairs, behind the chairs in the corner, and, of course, sprawled out in the middle of the room, among others (on top of the kitchen table even though she wasn't allowed). She loved to binky in such a way that her ears flopped around wildly.  She loved spending time grooming and being groomed by Biff.  She loved being pet.  She loved sneaking into the bedroom.  She loved her meals. She loved Biff and she loved her mom and dad.  She loved her life.

It has now been more than a month since the Sogna passed away.  The first week without her was especially hard.  She was a part of the family and the apartment seemed empty without her. It still does, but things have gotten better.  Biff is doing well and carrying the torch.  Yes, he still zooms around the apartment like a maniac and we have given him extra attention in hopes that he can still be a happy bun without his special girl.  I don't know what I miss the most about her.  I miss the way she'd be waiting for me every morning when I woke up.  I miss how her ears flopped up and down in excitement when

she ran for her breakfast.  I miss giving her eskimo kisses and petting her.  I miss her binkying at dinner time.  Perhaps most of all I miss her lying down next to me and talking to her (EHSOGNA).

But, despite the sadness of our loss, I am happy that Lisa, Biff, and I were able to give Sogna a happy life.  I will always look back on the time we spent together with fondness and appreciation that we were able to bring happiness into her life and that she was able to bring so much happiness into ours.

I'll always love you Sogna, as will Lisa and Biff.  You'll always be with us in our hearts and in our minds.  Rest in peace.  EHZOGNA!!

Love,

Jon  

To Love a Prey Animal

I had been saving this reflection for Sogna’s gotcha day on May 17^th, but it seems appropriate to share it now.

Every evening, before I go to bed, I give each bunny a papaya tablet and pet them for as long as they like.  Biff was usually disinterested with the petting part, but Sogna almost always appreciated a good, long snuggle before I retired to the bedroom. 

One night, Sogna was particularly eager to snuggle.  I wish I had a picture but instead I will try to describe.  Sogna’s tail was in my belly.  My legs were wrapped tightly around one side of her, my face was in her other side.  And I was reaching my hand up from behind her and stroking her, pressing gently on the sides of her cheeks and then moving backwards, the way she liked.

Rabbits are prey animals, as we know.  They don’t like to be held, because if they are so restrained, there’s a chance a predator can swoop in and snatch them up.  And yet my girl was completely enclosed by my body wrapped around her.  And she was far from fearing for her life.  She was tooth purring. 

I always think back to moments like these when people ask me, “why rabbits?” I have always been fascinated by animal behavior and psychology, and I have a particular interest in unlikely interspecies relationships.  We take an animal whose every instinct tells her that other animals are dangerous, and at any moment she could be made someone’s dinner. We capture her in the home of a lanky, omnivorous beast, perhaps five or six or seven times her size.  We then not only manage to eliminate the perpetual fear that plagues her (and for Sogna, it took over a year before she stopped feeling the need to take cover under the furniture any time someone new would visit, although she was always an affectionate girl with me). We teach them that we are friends.  We show them love, and somehow, inspire love in return.  The fearful creature that once hid from all other beings learns to relish the interaction.  She comes to seek our attention at all times and will head bonk, show off, and even nip to get it.  She has learned to love her predator.

I believe there is nothing more incredible. 

I’m not knocking dogs. I think dogs are great. But it is no accomplishment to teach your dog to love you or seek your approval.  It is ingrained in his DNA.  Provide your dog with the bare necessities of life and he will consider himself your slave, he will worship you and live for you.  With rabbits, we manipulate nature, and we teach an animal whose every thought is of her imminent demise that people are good, or at least people can be good.

But loving a prey animal has its draw backs.  For even if you leap the hurdle required to gain her trust, she will always hide her pain from you.

Sogna showed her first sign of trouble on Easter Sunday.  It didn’t seem serious: she had eaten her breakfast, but refused the treat I tried to give her Sunday afternoon before Jon and I left to spend Easter with my family.  When I woke up the next morning, she was hunched outside the bedroom door.  Just waiting for me to wake up and help her. She passed in my arms at about 5:30 that evening, about 28 hours after the first signs of trouble. 

I thought she was about four years old.  When I adopted her, I asked how old she was and her fosterer said that the people who surrendered her thought they had had her about a year.  But given her near-death condition, they obviously didn’t pay much attention to her. It’s possible they had her much longer. I don’t like to think about that.

She was an incredibly special girl.  I guess I’m not much of a writer because I can’t translate all the special things about her into words.  She was the queen of the head bonk. We would get bonked constantly.  In the past few months she developed this new habit of standing up on her back legs and boxing us as high up as she could reach when she wanted something.  But her boxing was gentle, not real boxing but more of a caress.  It kind of tickled and made us laugh every time.  She would flop around the place with a look of pure bliss on her face.  She wanted to groom Biff or be groomed by him every second of every day—I couldn’t imagine her being a single bun and am thankful that I was able to give her a bond mate.  When both buns were all groomed out, she was content just to sit with her body tightly pressed against his.  She and Jon had a special relationship: she was his little girl and she loved him right back.  She was a flirt, too: if a man came over she would lay down across his feet. She had the softest coat and on the rare occasions when she would take a break from shedding, it was silky and beautiful. She loved this apartment: it was probably the first time in her life she had ample space to really stretch her legs and run as fast as she could, now that she finally had full carpeting.  And as a result, the evidence of her past life of suffering—her slight splay leg and muscle atrophy and calcification of her tendons—recovered dramatically.

Jon and I spend our evenings reminiscing about all of the wonderful things we like to remember about her.  We try hard not to dwell on regrets, or what if’s, or whys. We try to focus all of our energy on Biff, making sure he stays happy and healthy.  Biff is coping very well. I had forgotten how much he craved my attention before he had Sogna to dote on him at all times. 

We consider ourselves lucky that he is doing as well as he is. 

And now, I bombard you with photos, in no particular order, because I couldn't possibly choose just one or even just a few.  Most of them are of Biff and Sogna together, because I think that as much as she loved to be loved, by anything, her very favorite thing in the world was being a bond-mate.  I am thankful every day that we gave her the chance to live a happy, comfortable life, and that she had somebunny to share it with.

Very first picture of my Angel Girl