People always say that good things come in small packages. In my case, a very good thing came in a tiny package.
It was toward the beginning of my fourth semester attending Emerson College in Boston that my roommate decided to withdraw and return home to Seattle. The girl who was to sublet from her wasn’t going to move in for another month, so I was virtually living alone. My on again-off again relationship was off, and as a result, I was spending my time between school and work. I was not in a good place, so leaving my apartment at 9 am and not returning until at least 1130 pm was starting to take a toll. As much as I was enjoying my privacy, no woman is an island.
Around a block and a half away from my apartment and around the corner was a small mom and pops pet shop I would visit when I felt low. They only sold small animals, but the owner always had his two cats and two dogs in the shop. I would go there and let their furry cuteness wash away the remnants of bad days or moods. One day in late September, I strolled in and went over to the bunny pit. And there, in the corner, was a tiny bunny. I asked the owner if he was aware there was a baby in with the bigger rabbits, and he told me that that particular rabbit was not a baby, he was a very young dwarf bunny that had been a special order for Easter, but they had never picked him up. Would I be interested?
I looked over at the little guy, huddled into a corner, trying to eat what was left of a carrot without drawing attention to himself.
Yes, I was definitely interested.
I called my friend Jen, the only person I knew in Boston with a car so I could take all the bunny accessories required for proper bunny care.
I set him up with his cage, food dish, water bottle and hay. He was tiny, probably about a pound or two. His coat was white and he had faint markings around his eyes that darkened as he got older. He seemed happy enough and all I had to do was think of a name. Chester was vetoed by Jen and so, after she left, I sat on the floor watching him hop around, trying to think of a name. It came to me the next morning- Wally.

Something was wrong, though…that afternoon I hurried home, realizing with a happy heart that there was a living breathing creature waiting for me at home. My friend Joel was also going to visit that evening, so I was happy. But when I got home, the little bunny seemed a little lethargic. I opened up his cage and he proceeded to hop out and begin exploring my living room. At the time, my living room furniture consisted of a large area rug, a tv stand and television, a sofa and ottoman, a lamp and two bean bag chairs. Wally quickly realized he was better off staying on the rug; his claws had no purchase on the wood floor beneath. My worry disappeared as he hopped around. When Joel got there, the rabbit did something curious. I expected him to scurry to his cage, or hide when Joel came in. Instead, the brave little guy hopped right up to the edge of the carpet, eyeing Joel. Could a bunny be protective?

I offered Joel a glass of water and he accepted. The lilt bunny then proceeded to hop onto my sofa! I didn’t know the little guy had those hops! He sniffed at Joel, and proceeded to inspect the glass. Joel tilted the glass and…voila! Wally drank all of the water.

I realized that was why the little guy had Ben acting funny. He was thirsty! I quickly went over to inspect the water bottle in his cage and found that it worked. Then it hit me: Wally was a tiny rabbit who probably didn’t have the strength in his tiny tongue to push the ball bearing into the drinking tube in order to release the water. I felt like a bad bunny mommy. I commandeered the smallest bowl I had in the cupboard, filled it up and placed it in his cage. Wally quickly hopped back in and proceeded to inspect, approve and drink from his bowl.
Crisis averted.