one of those weird people…


Things have eased momentarily. Life has resumed a path where this the immediate fears have resigned themselves. The pile of books that have been lying next to my bed for over two months are starting to become dogeared and stained. 


In a moment of possible temporary insanity, positivity and forward thinking I decided to buy a house bunny. I had a rabbit when I was younger. My first pet and black and white lop eared fluffball, imaginatively named ‘Fluffy’, purchases from a pet shop. It was the same year I owned my first camera so he soon became my number one model and a i stlll own the large collection of blurry photographs I took of him. Fluffy, however was somewhat of a beast. Much to my annoyance he absolutely despised being held and would cover anybody who went near him with scratches. My dad reckons he still has scars. 


Fluffy, was in his own way awesome. There’s something about rabbits that I just adore. Being a city dweller and determined to make 2013 the year I rebuild my british foundations I decided one Saturday afternoon that re-entering the world of rabbit ownership was a wise idea. I found a breeder on the internet and put a deposit down on a small pink bundle. 


At that point, I had been back in London for barely a week and was clueless about forthcoming changes. They hadn’t even entered my mind. I was full of ‘New Year’ positivity and fully project minded. 2013 was my year and I created this blog to aid that.


8 weeks later when the pink bundle had turned into a small grey fluff ball and almost every plan I had made had somewhat shattered, Ziggy arrived in my life.


The day i collected him I was hungover. I had been away at a friend’s making plans and preparations for her forthcoming wedding. The night before had been somewhat drunken and just when I needed it most, the british transport system was failing me. However by the end of the day I had sobered up and gained a huge responsibility. Who undoubtedly arrived just when I needed him. 


The first thing Ziggy did after I had unloaded him from his travelling house and into his cage where he had sat like a frozen statue (his scared state) for an hour, was to start licking me. 


Rabbits tongues are strange, Small and soft, unlike the roughness of a cat, rabbit tongues are incredibly ticklish to start with. But he liked it, so I let him. Eventually he stopped and started to tentatively hop around, exploring the adventure land he had found himself in. 


Two weeks later and the licking continues, I googled it, apparently it’s a sign of affection. Being licked by a rabbit is now a constant part of my life. He licks any area of skin he can reach, sometimes climbing up me to lick my face. i have become one of those weird people, covered in rabbit lick and fluff. Taking him on the underground at rush hour the other day was insteresting. He was freaking out, i was talking to him to calm him down. The crowd around were weirded out and intrigued by the person talking to a bag. Wanting to know what I was talking to, or was I just crazy? Possibly.


Ziggy, despite being a three month old ball of fluff, has taught me a lot in the last two weeks. He has helped me a lot in his own cheeky way. I am forced to be responsible for something, someone other than myself. And when life gets rough, that responsibility forces life to happen. Forces me to get up, to let him out of his cage, to feed him. To sit patiently whilst he licks me. Because that is his way of him showing he’s happy. His expression. And when he does that it means he’s happy with me. Something which I am truly grateful for. Especially when everything else in my life is tumultuous to say the least. 

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