Wild Weather

And a farewell to Lilly

Adorable little Lilly; 15 February 2020.

I’m sitting here listening to a wall of furious winds arrive in our area. Our electricity just slammed off abruptly several times (in other words, no mamby pamby flickering in this storm). Even though it’s not flickering, as in when all the lights dim and you can hear a disconcerting zzzzt zzzzt if you listen closely enough, it’s surprisingly come back on just as rapidly.

For now.

Consequently, this will be short.

And it is with a heavy heart that I dedicate tonight’s post to a furry little friend of mine, Lilly the Bunny, who crossed the Rainbow Bridge today.

Lilly, willing me to give her a carrot; 14 July 2022.

Lilly was our next door neighbor.

I was lucky enough to be her bunnysitter when her family would go out of town, so over the years, we got to know each other.

She had quite the personality. She would grunt and snort and every once in a while, make a sound that almost sounded like a purr. Her favorite form of communication with me was the lunge-and-snort. Every single time she did it, I’d exclaim in surprise.

We would have protracted conversations when I would visit. She would tell me about her day, which mostly consisted of doing laps up and down the ramp in her two story hutch, although I know she would pounce on things in the bottom level of her hutch, skidding through her hay, just like a kitten. I know that because I caught her doing it one time and I swear, I think she was embarrassed she’d been caught being such a silly bunny.

Lilly, starting to feel her age and kind of giving me the stink-eye as she barely tolerated my affections. 22 August 2025.

We would also have conversations about her food. Besides her bunny chow, and her timothy, her mommy would always leave me a variety of greens to feed her, as well as her coveted carrots. And yes, coveted is the correct term. She would grunt and snatch it from my fingers (making me yelp in surprise every single time – which I think she took a slightly sinister pleasure in), and she would devour that carrot with such obvious relish, I’d often go home and eat a couple myself.

Every time I’d feed her, I’d chat her up and sing to her, usually reciting the different delicacies I was going to put in her bowl or telling her what a good girl she was. One time, her mommy left me a package of Brussels sprouts to feed her, along with her usual assortment of other greens, which from time to time would variously include romaine lettuce, parsley, spinach, and sometimes even green beans. (She especially loved green beans, too – and liked to snatch them from my hand as well, snorting in delight.)

But I soon learned that she did not like Brussels sprouts. Not one bit. Holy cow. I swear, she glared at me the day after I put a couple in her bowl. I could tell she’d tried one (and I could just imagine her spitting it out, too.) She made it abundantly clear that she was going to hold it against me if I ever tried to pass those green stinky pellets off on her again.

Lilly, staring pointedly at her empty bowl when I arrived. Her appetite was robust that weekend! I think it was because she was playing so much. 1 March 2026.

Lilly was an elder bunny. A wise little sister. I can’t remember if she was 11 or maybe even 12 years old, but I know she lived a long and well-loved life.

The last time I cared for her was only a couple of weeks ago. She’d been having a hard time using one of her back legs and so her mommy had given her more opportunity to remain out of her hutch. We had such a great time together that weekend! She’d never before played with me as much as she did on that last visit, chasing the little broom I was using to clean up her pellets, and just generally being silly. It was a real treat for me to see her acting like a ‘baby bunny’ (not unlike a kitten), in spite of her age.

Bye bye Lillster. You were a very good bunny-girl, and you will be missed.