Buster (previously named Ralph) and I met at Rabbit Haven three years ago.  He's my best fur-friend and will be moving with me to Veterinary school this fall.  Here is our story!

The first time I met you it was a cold, rainy day in early February. I was just starting to volunteer at Rabbit Haven and I had no idea what to expect.  Angie was kind enough to show me around, naming each rabbit and telling their story.

Finally we came to your cage.  You were in the Super Pet brand carrier, sitting square in the center as king of your territory.  From the first moment I saw you it was all over: I looked at you, you glared angry at me.  Love at first sight.

Angie explained that you were a Biter Bunny, famous for sinking your teeth into people.  Angie gently reached in to say hello, she's so kind to even the grumpiest bun, and you quickly bit her hand -hard enough to bleed.  She called you a stinkpot and for reasons I can't explain I liked you anyways.

Angie told your story: You had been given up to the Humane Society.  Your people had purchased you as a baby and as you grew they no longer wanted you.  At the Humane Society you were used as a People-Pet-Partnership animal since you still had your baby cuteness.  Brought into a new environment time after time, you were passed from person to person, used to teach new people animal handling.  You were placed in too many hands that were not able to hold rabbits.

Your body was prodded, mishandled, and you were passed from stranger to stranger.  In your defense you started biting.  You may not have known, but you were going to be euthanized.  Luckily you landed at Rabbit Haven instead, now biting perfectly friendly volunteers.  They had to corner you with a dustpan just to change your food and water.

That day I told Sue I wanted you.  She looked at me like I was a little crazy.  "Ralph?  You know which one Ralph is, right?  Heck, I'll box him up for you right now!"  Two weeks later, after you were neutered, you came home with me.

For first week I slept on the floor beside your pen.  I brought the
best veggies, the freshest hay, and a kingdom of cardboard boxes and phone books.  You showed your appreciation by growling at my every move.  Never had you been outside of a cage before.  The first time I let you loose at home, you ran circles like the Indy-500.  You could barely believe that you had room to run!

I would try hold you, you would protest and try to bite the holy ghost out of me.  I tried to change your food and water, you would lunge and growl.  I tried to feed you by hand.  You tried to take off my hand.  I walked into your space, you launched yourself growling at my ankles.  I collected my fair share of your attitude and a handful of bites.  Some days I wondered if I was stuck with an animal that would always hate me.  I knew I had to be patient; you had never been able to trust a human before.

I admired your feisty personality. You weighed less than 5 pounds but had 500 pounds of attitude.  Fierce and angry, never scared or cowering in the corner, I thought you'd be a warrior if you were to become human.  When the world had given you crap, you stood up for yourself.  Instead of hunkering down and getting frightened, you would go out fighting.  You named yourself Buster, partly for your love of busting stuff.

Progress was slow, but fortunately I had help.  Sue and Angie gave me handling tricks and tips.  Shawndra, my teacher and animal communicator, helped me understand you.  I practiced Reiki healing.  Marnie taught us T-touch and we finally had a breakthrough!  More than six months after I had gotten you, I was finally able to hold you in my arms.  As I felt your little heartbeat next to mine, I knew the months of waiting and wondering were all worth it.

After our breakthrough things got easier.  I could hold and you would actually snuggle into me!  I could flip you over, you would let me play with your feet.  I could come into your space and though you still growled for fun, you happy-danced instead of biting me.

All through this I was studying to get into veterinary school.  I took my books and notes to lab with torn edges and missing corners.  My
classmates just looked at me funny when I explained my rabbit ate my notes.  When I had my vet school applications out you even nibbled off part of my personal essay.  I guess that just made it even more personal.

Now we're moving to WSU for veterinary school and you're going to be my roommate.  I wish you'd pay your share of the rent, but I love you and could not think of a better fur-friend to share my life with.

 - Sheila