I am that Bunny.
My story begins in a big department store several years ago.
One day I was sitting in the shop that I had come to think of as home, when a darling little girl ran past me and gave me a huge hug. Her father, unable to resist her pleas, bought me to keep her company.
The next few years were some the happiest of my life.
The little girl, who I shall not name because of her subsequent cruelty, loved me and kept me in her bedroom.
Her father made life easy for us.
The only cloud on the horizon was her mother who, although generally tolerant of me, was always upset by my size. It was her that gave me my nickname "Killer Bunny".
Up until a few weeks ago, my life was perfectly content.
How was I to know that the combination of my little girl growing up and finding a boyfriend, and the family moving to a smaller home, this can result in me being abandoned.
It is unbelievably hard to type with claws, particularly with tears rolling down my furry cheeks as I remember being abandoned, and so I would leave this post for now and return to my story soon.
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