I see Bunito's beautiful white fur and try not to think of how people kill his kind for fur, but how much I love petting him. I look at his ruby eyes and try not to think about animal testing; instead, I dim the light to not hurt them. And I look at his absolute joy when he binkies (hops into the air) with pure happiness. I realize that it is okay to allow rays of sunlight into these very dark days we live in and to be sure to grasp those rays and bask in them. And always, always fight to make those rainbows real.
In 2009, I lost one of my greatest loves, my cat Malcolm, who I
found when moving out of my college dorm—he was so young when I
found him that he had not even opened his eyes. He died from kidney
failure a couple of weeks before his 16th birthday. Due to the
intense pain I felt after losing him, I decided to not have another
companion animal, but when I got together with my partner, Mark
Hawthorne, he had a bunny named Sophie. I wrote about this in a
previous blog.
After we lost Sophie, we decided that we were done—again. The pain
of losing a companion animal was extremely difficult. And as many of
you can probably relate to, it isn’t something that many employers
or family members can completely understand. Perhaps you have heard
remarks such as, they’re “just a cat.” And few jobs give you paid
time off for mourning the loss of a non-human animal.
We lived without companion animals for many years, but luckily had
friends with bunnies where Mark was able to get his bunny love
satisfied. And where we’ve lived, we have often had cats in the
neighborhood who would come over to visit and sometimes even spend
the night.
We recently moved back to downtown San José, CA, and live in an area
where we can walk through the residential neighborhoods. On one of
our walks in June, we spotted two bunnies near a street; they were
clearly not wild rabbits—the female was white with grey spots and
the male was white with pink eyes. They were near an intersection
and were filthy. They looked young—five or six months old.
As Mark is a bunny lover (and just published a book about rabbits!
The Way of the Rabbit),
he jumped into action and went to get boxes and a towel so we could
rescue them. It took some time, but we eventually were able to
corner them underneath a dirty outdoor stairwell that was covered in
cigarette butts. These two were very bonded; in fact, even during
the rescue the white bunny put his body in front of his mate to
prevent me from reaching her—I couldn’t even see her! Once we were
back in our apartment, he would hop in front of her in order to put
his body between her and us.
All of the local rabbit rescues were filled, so we decided to foster
them. More than likely, these two bunnies (and why the rescues were
filled) were dumped “Easter bunnies.” Unfortunately, their cuteness
can also be to their detriment as many people buy them as gifts for
Easter but don’t really think of them as living, breathing animals
and instead see them as toys.
Sadly, we lost the white-and-grey spotted rabbit due to a
complication during her spay surgery, which was devastating.
We struggled about what to do with the male bunny because we did not
want to go through the pain of losing another companion animal and
making unbearable decisions. And at the same time, our hearts broke
at the thought of all he had been through: being dumped, the stress
of the rescue, and losing his beloved companion; he even exhibited
signs of trauma from his previous “home,” such as going into hiding
if we moved too fast. And truth be told, I had completely and
utterly fallen in love with him.
Putting aside our own fears about getting attached and losing him,
we adopted him. His name is Bunito Juárez Hawthornelas and is named
after the first Indigenous president of Mexico, Benito Juárez.
And he has changed our lives dramatically. He is a young bunny, so
we keep joking we are too old for his antics. He is what I call
“full of beans”: he lets you know when he wants you to pet him and
when he is over it … with just a nudge of his nose. He is super
sassy and likes to sit on the couch after we go to bed.
Though as I laugh at his binkies and love his zoomies around the
house, my mind does go to the fact that rabbits are killed for food
and used in experiments (of course they are also used for fur,
hunting, etc.), and I have noticed his demeanor changes when I have
such thoughts. He distances himself from me. And I realize he can
probably sense my visual brain and my sadness.
During this time, Food Empowerment Project (F.E.P.) was also in the
midst of our work for our Fight for the Ocean Week
(fightfortheocean.com), and as part of that we had a book club
reading Undrowned: Black Feminist Lessons from Marine Mammals.
It is a powerful, beautiful book written by a Black feminist that
gives you a completely different perspective of marine mammals—one
where we are allowed to learn about them and to love them. We are
allowed to connect their lives with ours, with colonization and the
challenges of discovery. The things you learn about these animals
are breathtaking.
One of the questions presented by one of our board members (who ran
the book club) was: “What was your takeaway?” I spoke up and said
something to the effect that I learned more about animals that I
already had some knowledge of, and now I have to worry more about
them, which is painful.
The more we learn about any injustice and what the victims go
through, the more we should be shaken to our core. But I am starting
to realize that while we are working to fight against injustices, we
need to find some joy in our world. In fact, it is something that I
am learning from a number of Black-led organizations that are
showing Black Joy—not just trauma but joy.
In the work we do, fighting for justice for both human and non-human
animals, we can be surrounded by trauma, anguish, and pain, and as
someone who dedicated my entire life to fighting injustices, I think
that I spend a lot of time thinking of that in order to create ways
to stop it.
Though lately, as my brain has been processing the outrage regarding
how to end the hate and injustice and how to improve the lives of
those who are the most vulnerable, I also see Bunito. He has his own
projects, activities, naughtiness, and ways to express happiness and
trust, and instead of getting upset with myself for being
preoccupied with work while I appreciate his wonderful traits, I
have just allowed myself to watch and not feel guilty.
I think what Bunito has taught me is that joy is okay. And I don’t
mean laughing, as I do that often, but I mean the ability to put
aside the suffering in the world just to appreciate, well, genuine
happiness. That isn’t a word I use often as it is personally hard
for me to use it when there is so much suffering in the world.
I see his beautiful white fur and try not to think of how people
kill his kind for fur, but how much I love petting him. I look at
his ruby eyes and try not to think about animal testing; instead, I
dim the light to not hurt them. And I look at his absolute joy when
he binkies (hops into the air) with pure happiness.
I realize that it is okay to allow rays of sunlight into these very
dark days we live in and to be sure to grasp those rays and bask in
them. And always, always fight to make those rainbows real.
This is going to be a process, and I am sure there will be times
when I forget, but I hope to feel and share more joy in this world.
And if you, like me, have been fighting the good fight for so many
decades, I hope you will try it too.