With respect and deep regret, we say goodbye to Dixie, a good friend and amiable rabbit. He died of unknown causes, but he lived to a fair age.
Now, on my sister's birthday, we went to a shelter to get a new rabbit Dovahkiin whom my sister has renamed Davulcan. I was instantly attracted to the cats, as I knew I would be. But there was one -- this one kitten in with three others, grey all over, that stole my heart. I thought not much of it right away, knowing the impracticality in begging for a cat on the eve of my departure for school. The subject came up naturally, however, and next thing I knew, I was holding him. Then I was sharing uncertain glances across the room about whether we could go ahead and adopt him. He was so quiet, amiable, and lovable. Then, my mother was signing the adoption papers.
What would my father think? That was a serious question; but there was enough reason to believe that he would approve of the idea. Well, he would have to now.
Three months old, fluffy grey, and originally a stray -- what would be a proper name for him? Our first cat was named Shakespeare. Someone -- perhaps my mother or sister -- suggested William. My brother seemed to take to the idea. Certainly, the Doughnut name he came with hardly seemed appropriate. Stormcloud was cliche. Weathertop was unfavorable to my mother. Gandalf the Grey -- she loved that, and so do I. However, my brother simply adores that cat and somehow Willy seems to have stuck. I have to admit, for some reason, it just works. (It also has the virtue of not sounding silly when you're calling for him, like when I'm calling for my dog Baby Girl.)
We all agreed the name would be up to my father, but Willy, he said, was working for him. So Willy it is; but we compromised and named him William Gandalf, and honestly, there's no reason we can't call him whatever we like. My sister's rabbit Dixie was called Dixie, Bunny, Bob, and Bun-bun; whatever she was called, everyone knew who was meant.
But he's so sweet, Willy is. As yet, he doesn't quite like our simple dog, which is understandable, but he himself is very amiable to quiet people. Some day, they'll be fast friends I hope. He loves to cuddle and rub against you, nibble your fingers and purr, and likes belly rubs. He also loves my brother and my brother's room, which more than suits my doting brother. Willy likes to be under the bed, and he climbs up into the box springs.
Unfortunately, my brother has never been so stuffed up in his life, but he doesn't care, and he is willing to go to any lengths for this cat. It's so cute to watch them together.
Dovahkiin (and I stubbornly call him by some pronunciation of his original name) is equally cute, if not as entertaining. He has lived inside all his life, but eventually we intend to have him live out in Dixie's hutch. But this little guy loves to just sit on your lap and be petted -- he's content to do so for hours, as my sister can attest to (with a de-stressed look on her face).
(He loves my brother's baseball cap.)
It's just my luck that my family starts raising a farm after I'm all set to leave.
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