Note: I posted a blog late last night about the Boston Marathon tragedies. I am also going to go ahead and post my "n" post for the a-z challenge. Feel free to read the Boston Marathon post here: http://www.m5carolin.blogspot.com/2013/04/boston-marathon.html
When I was 8, I decided that I despretly wanted a bunny for Christmas. I wrote a letter to Santa, dropped hints with my parents, and prayed every night. I was determined to get a little brown and white bunny.
Sure enough, Christmas morning came and there he was. A brown and white bunny in a steel cage, hopping around. In the home video you can hear my dad sarcastically saying "I can't believe Santa actually bought a bunny". Good ole dad may have been hesitant, but I was thrilled. I named the bunny Nibbles, and I immediately picked up the phone to call my grandma. Without taking a breath, I spit out "Hi Grandma it's me Megan I got a bunny he's brown and white and he's little and he's a boy." My mom and sister helped me take him out of the cage and showed me how to hold him. He was precious.
For a few weeks, I was head over heels for the little dude. I was so proud, telling all my friends about my bunny and wanting them to come over to see him. I was holding him, feeding him, even had a little leash for him. He was my pal and I was so happy that my Christmas wish came true.
But the honeymoon phase did not last long. I started to forget to let him out and then his cage would smell. Then, I'd let him run around my room and I started finding bite marks on my books and dolls clothes, which made me angry. I also don't think I realized how skiddish a bunny would be. I was a nervous child, and having him jump around everywhere made me even more anxious.
One day I came home from school and noticed that Nibbles was gone. My dad gave him away to a repair man that came to our house to fix a leak in our basement. I deserved that-I didn't take my responsibility seriously, and my dad gave Nibbles away to someone who may. I'm sure my little 8 year old heart was crushed, and guilty. But it was also kinda, sorta, funny.
For the next few years we would see a bunny that looked like Nibbles and joke that maybe it was him. And my family exaggerated and tells me it took me WEEKS to discover Nibbles was gone. Nah. Days, maybe, but not weeks. To this day, when I see a rabbit, I think of Nibbles.
I learned a lesson there. Aside from hermit crabs that ended up a hermit crab homicide scene (I'm not kidding, one of my hermit crabs ATE the OTHER HERMIT CRAB), I never had another pet all on my own. After our first golden retriever died, we begged our parents for a second one and we did get him, but he belongs to all of us. He's still around and pretty much the best dog in the entire world.
So Nibbles, wherever you ended up, I hope you lived a happy little life and that you were taken care of by another little girl. But I'll never forget that moment of excitement when I turned the corner into the family room and saw you for the first time.