Adventures with Star, Part One

I have always loved rabbits. Since the age of four, rabbits were the main subject of all my drawings. I remember one time when I was five years old, I enlightened a few of my peers on how to draw a rabbit during my Sunday School class, and I felt proud of my abilities. I wanted to have my own pet rabbit so immensely that sometimes it was the only thing I could think about. I remember often sighing as I had daydreams of holding a rabbit in my arms, wishing it would become a reality.

Then, for Christmas when I was eight years old, I received a baby rabbit. I was ecstatic. The rabbit was all black except for a white spot on her nose. She was so tiny that I could easily fit her in the palms of both of my hands. I had never had a pet before in my life, so I was scared to hold her at first. When I first held her, she became very scared and scratched me. I cried and vowed that I would only hold her while wearing long sleeves and jeans, but I soon developed a sense of how she wanted to be held and how she became comfortable.

My siblings and I had a debate about what her name would be, and we soon settled on the name “Star.” We figured that since she was all black except for the white spot on her nose, she resembled a dark night with a lone star shining brightly. Lone stars are usually the best view that we have in Houston any given night anyway, so we found it fitting.

I fell in love with Star. She became one of the greatest joys in my life. Most young girls I knew were obsessed with toys such as Barbies, but I had no interest in those things at all. Star was my world. Ruth, an elderly neighbor, gave me two handbooks about rabbits, so I studied them diligently. I learned the best kinds of foods to give rabbits, and I experimented with Star to see which foods were her favorites: tomatoes, parsley, and chocolate. I found out about her craze for chocolate when I discovered a half-eaten chocolate Easter bunny under my bed one year. I learned all about their habits, and I spent so much time with Star, that I became quite adept at recognizing what she desired and felt when I was with her. My siblings always complained because Star would nip them. But I always scoffed at them and said, “Well of course she did! Don’t you realize that you picked her up in the completely wrong way?” They never seemed to understand.

At first, I kept Star in a cage inside. But one beautiful spring day, I decided I would take her in our backyard and let her enjoy the freshness of the grass and plants. Star had a blast. So I increased her outings over the weeks, and my dad eventually built a cage for her outside. So Star moved outside. Every day, I would diligently take her out of her cage and let her roam around the yard, and then I would bring her back in at night.

But one day I forgot to put her back in her cage. I ran outside calling her name, horrified and convinced that I had left her to her death by neighborhood cats.  [To be continued…]