Heartwarming story of two bunnies.

[Hand]

A friend of mine posted this on our listserv recently. The two animals, Q and Justin, are bunnies. Justin was adopted after his previous owner died and is very old a feeble. Q is young and big and strong.
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Usually, Q, (short for Quad Erat Demonstrandum, or that which must be
proved) is the one that is always the subject of "don't do that!"
"don't eat that" "get off of there" "how did you get on the curtains"
and so on. In other words, he is mischievous, fast and levitates. My
little werebun.

But in the past week he has shown another side, a wonderful, touching
side of his very strong personality. He is a Guardian.

Justin Albrecht Harrison Scheel is about 12 and a half now, or pushing
125 in human years. He's arthritic, blind in both eyes, and losing a
lot of weight. At his last vet visit, a couple of weeks ago, he was
pronounced "pretty good for being ancient" with no health difficulties
other than arthritis and blindness, both afflictions to be expected at
his advanced age.

But it's those tottering old bones that has his mommy worried. And Q,
apparently, is also worried about the Tottering Old Man.

Q is frighteningly dextrous and smart. I have an old drafty house and
only two rooms have heat - the dining room and the bathroom. The
dining room has a nice thick oriental rug and is bathed in sunlight
(when the sun bothers to shine here...). It is, in fact, my favorite
room in the house. About a month ago I took to sitting with Justin on
one of the dining room chairs in front of the heater to toast his
tottering old bones and keep him comfy as we snuggled. Q watched.

In the past week, as Justin declines a bit every day, his arthritis
has been more pronounced. I've stepped up his Metacam but it's still
cold - it's only April and it's Oregon so the sun will not come out
until July (don't think I'm kidding) and it's in the 40s at best. I am
gone 14 hours a day between work and commute so I don't heat the house
until I come home. One particularly dismal day, I turned the heat on
before I left to keep the damp chill out of the house. Q was watching
me as I did so.

I came home to find Justin lying under the chair in front of the
heater, basking. How did that ancient old bun get there? Justin
frequently runs through the water bowl as he can't see it so he leaves
little tracks I can follow. The trail leads, creeping inch by inch
along the walls, hugging every contour of cabinet and obstacle, to the
spot on the oriental rug right in front of the heater. There he lies,
basking in warmth. At first it was just Justin. I cried when I saw it,
thinking of how scary and long the trek must have been for the blind
old guy. I turned on the heat and scooped him up and cuddled on the
floor. Q joined us and watched from the doorway.

And watch he did. The next day I came home and there, in the dining
room in front of the heat, was Justin was parked in front of it,
tottering happily. Q was by the door again. I looked at the tracks
(which I had just cleaned the night before off the new oak floors)!.
Yes, he had made the arduous trek again along the walls. But how did
the heater get on?

The following day, I come home and there, again, the heater is on and
Justin and Q in their positions. I check the floor which once again
had been scrubbed. No tracks along the side! How could old blind,
feeble Justin have gotten there without hugging the walls and feeling
his way with his virtually useless Rex whiskers?

I look for tracks. Yes. There. From the warren, through the kitchen,
straight through (not hugging any walls) the dining room are Justin's
tracks. How could he do this? And again, how did the heater get turned
on?

The next day I came home early. No Justin in the warren. No Q. I look
in the dining room.

There, in the door, are the pair. Q is leading Justin. One small hop
and then Justin totters after him. He fell on Q four times in this
trek I observed, each time, Q would nudge him back upright, groom him
and take another small hop until they finally reached the dining room.
On the rug Justin can maneuver pretty well, it has traction and if you
fall over it's all soft. Justin navigated blindly around the table and
chair legs until he found his place of maximum heat. Q went to the
wall and scratched at the knob that turns the heater on. He scratched
and pounced until it came on then went to his place in the door way.
Watching. Guarding.

I am so proud of my son! He is taking such good care of the Tottering
Old Man! He has finally put those brains and that ambition to rule the
world to good use. He is a seeing-eye bunny. He is a dining room
sherpa. He is a guardian of the ancient one. He is the bringer of
warmth. He's my Q. He has, as his name intimates, proved himself.


This is evidence of what we've all known - that rabbits are
exceptionally social, loving, nurturing beings. They are intelligent,
can use tools, can manipulate their world (as well as their hoomins)
and can reason. I believe these are the qualities required for the
arrogant human "test" of sentience. We have always known they are our
equals. I think, having seen this, now, that this proves they are our
superiors.

:cry:

[yellerpup]

1. What a great and inspiring story!

Thanks so much for sharing it. :hug: And to bunnies.... :toast: Here's to ya!

[alstephenson]

2. Sweet story.

Thanks!

[okasha]

3. Q may be young in body

but what a wise and loving old soul he is!