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I Would Like To Introduce You To Tinker....

She was a Lilac English Spot who had no spots on her sides. She was a lovely pet during my teenage years and I treasured her company. I could hold her in my arms.... upside down.... and she stayed.... She drank beer, chewed gum and wore sunglasses and I could dress her up...She sat on the couch stretched out watching the goings on in our livingroom. My father made a beautiful hutch for our rabbits - all girls - with a pull out drawer we could hose off and each rabbit had a nesting box with a lifting lid for protection from the elements... Their cages sat under the apple tree at the back of our yard facing south to the back of our home..I recall an especially delightful moment in the middle of a cold winter when we had a rare snowfall... My sister and I set our alarm clocks for 3 am and went outside in our pajama's and boots to change their water, as we knew it would be frozen...We let our bunnies out and had a wonderful time playing with them in the snow.

Tinker was never to be a mother... We returned to the farm on two occassions to breed our rabbits and she wanted nothing to do with her suitor. She had a wild streak as well... When on the ground, she was hard to catch and put back in her hutch. She took to digging a hole by our fence and we watched her for a week or so... it was very entertaining and she was determined and focused... Eventually Dad collapsed her burrow and it had extended into the neighbour's yard in and around the oak tree roots... She also caused me a very embarrassing moment when some aboriginal children came, with their family, for a visit. They were collecting a fishing trophy my parents won, from the year before, and we knew the family from putting our boat in the water at their boat ramp. I was so happy to show the children our rabbits and my Tinker chased them...I had never seen her be aggressive like that. I quickly caught her and put her in her hutch.

She was my special friend and confidant through my teenage years and she died quietly one Sunday when I had been invited to church with some friends... I received the sad news after that service and I will never forget my sorrow... but rejoiced in the comfort and support from my friends, who had taken me church. Even now, I feel the Love I felt for my beautiful rabbit as I approach my senior years.... Thank you for giving me an opportunity to write her story.

dragonwaters dragonwaters 56-60, F 3 Responses Sep 4, 2011

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What a sweet reminiscent story of your dear friend... (with a sad but not surprising ending)<br />
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Made me recall my English Blue cat who only liked me out of all the family members. She would scratch my door when I was sleeping in and someone would let her in, then she would kneed my face till I woke up.<br />
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She died of loneliness when I went away to Navy boot-camp. They told me over the phone in one of the very few calls home that I was permitted to make. I cried... just a little :-)<br />
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...bitter-sweet memories

Naturally you would be upset... animals give unconditional love and when we lose them we grieve. I can not have pets where I live and have been considering fish again... right now my plants are thriving...and the little wild birdies are taking my hair and dryer fluff off my balcony to build their nests... that is the extent of my animal interactions...I remember a male cat that did that to me... (kneading) I got really nervous because he was kissing me too.... Sweet cat he was but I didn't know what to do when he crossed that cat/human barrier....ha ha ha...I was a young adult at the time. When we were kids, my sister got an old fur coat for another one of our cats and cut it to fit his cat bed and oh he was in love with that bed...even though he was fixed he loved that bed...kneading it all the time....and purring. The rabbits were more detached on the ground but friendly in our arms.

A rabbit that drank beer, chewed gum, & wore sunglasses........awesome!<br />
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How old was the rabbit when she died?

5 or 6 I think - She was with me through those teen years and I was working at a nursing home and then on the picket line for a first collective agreement when she died...1968 or "69 My friends were community activists and went to a modern catholic church that played guitars and I was in church with them. We were sharing that experience during the labour dispute.

Sorry for your loss, happy for your memories.

Well I would have never written this story unless I had run into something to trigger the memories... Thanks to EP..