In the spring of 2018, a potential adopter browsed the prospects in the shed at Hopalong Hollow, searching for the bunny that would fulfill her cuddly dreams. I pointed to the perfect candidate, the most elegantly natured, love-filled bunny in residence—Mulligan.
Mulligan had been brought to the Hollow by a kind rescuer after being abandoned on a golf course. Mulligan’s ears showed evidence of attacks by outdoor predators, but even so she was simply gorgeous. A shiny, jet-black stunner.
With a strong note of disdain, the woman replied, “Oh, no, she’s too big. And what happened to her ear? A black bunny? No. No way, not for us. Are there any smaller, fluffier, cuter buns you would recommend?”
Sadly, these are not uncommon comments about large black buns. They are often overlooked and ignored, chosen last or not at all.
Once the shortsighted woman had left, I turned to Mulligan and offered her my apologies. I apologized for the ignorance and insults thrown her way. I told Mulligan it was better that she wasn’t chosen by someone so sadly blinkered. I told her one day she would find her person, and that person would see her as a treasure.
Week after week, I returned to the Hollow to find Mulligan still waiting. She loved to be petted and came to expect the golden raisins that were her favorite treats. Shutting the cage door week after week grew increasingly difficult for me, she was so desperate for affection.
With her fate increasingly clear, the decision was made to find a friend at the Hollow with whom Mulligan could spend her remaining days. Her new partner provided endless cuddling and companionship, but the love of a furever home remained an elusive dream.
Unfortunately, adoption day never came for Mulligan. E. cuniculi had other plans, sending her into kidney failure. She fought long and hard as I watched her waste away, Thursday after Thursday. Each goodbye grew more tenuous than the last, as I told Mulligan I’d see her next week.
Mulligan left us to cross the Rainbow Bridge in the early hours of July 31, 2019, without ever finding that furever home.
She was privately cremated, and her ashes serve as a reminder. A reminder that we have more needy animals in the world than homes. A reminder that it is never acceptable to purchase animals. A reminder that there are no good breeders, because breeding is inherently wrong. Inherently wrong because too many end up like Mulligan—or worse.
The memory of Mulligan lives on in all the Hollow volunteers who loved her. 🌈