When I turned 12 years old, my parents and Tati brought home a fuzzy, 2-year-old Cashmere Lop named BunBun. She was precious. Her small floppy ears were charcoal grey. She had the cutest little black nose; she was my baby girl.
BunBun couldn’t be more perfect for our family–she loved to eat, sleep and snuggle up with us. She loved it when people pet her just above her nose, you could tell she was enjoying it because she always closed her eyes as if she was getting the best massage of her life. BunBun was a reflection of our family–mellow and affectionate.
I remember one summer we had to bring her inside the house because there was a huge thunderstorm outside and we made the bathtub in the upstairs bathroom her temporary home. She hated it! She tried to hop high enough to escape and she wouldn’t stop digging. I even scolded her for her bad behaviour and tried to play classical music to calm her down. Thinking back to those few hours I spent feeling angry at her, I realize how silly that day was.
For seven years, BunBun brought me so much happiness, and I had no idea that she would have such a profound impact on my life. She made my heart feel warm and even though she couldn’t communicate with us like cats or dogs, I like to think that she loved us back. She lived a beautiful life and there’s no doubt that I’m going to miss her every single day.
Bye, baby girl. I love you. Rest in peace, my angel.