Pictures & Fun
| Who's the Pet? |
Denise P. Kalm
I have come to learn her soft body, the parts that itch and need scratching. The sides next to her ears that long for rubbing. Her big brown eyes full of patience and knowledge. The set of her ears tells me her moods; her teeth grinding is rabbit purring.
She goes to the bathroom next to her newspaper, but not on it, fastidiously reminding me that it hasn't been changed and offends her bunny sensibilities. She washes her face and ears carefully, sometimes seeming to preen in front of my full-length mirror. I can do a full makeup and hair on myself without ever once really seeing my face.
Holly eats hungrily, full of enjoyment and relishing the crunch, till her little stomach bulges. Then she rests, contentedly leaning against the window. I munch and nibble to fill a hollow that has never really been in my stomach, and thus, can't be filled with food.
She chooses to be with me, or not, but sometimes will stay just because I need her, when she would rather be somewhere else, kicking up her heels in a clover field. I forget her for hours and then demand to have my bunny now, little concerned for her needs and desires. Holly tolerates this, while hoping I will finally learn.
Who trains whom? And which is the superior being? Only in sharing my life with an animal can I begin to understand myself.
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