#papabun

Yesterday was my 29th birthday, as well as the 3rd anniversary of Papa Buns passing. He seems to be my primary source of inspiration. I drew this up in January. Ultimately, it’s not my best work for a few technical reasons. But I don’t really want to mess with it at this point.

The image is derived from an old photo I have of Papa Bun sleeping in his cage, that just so happens to be the position he was in when he died. That day was rough. When my wife came home I had already laid him on a bed of hay inside a carboard box for transport to the crematorium. This image is my last memory of him.

Big bun an lil bun

@the-worlds-biggest-idiot

OMG!!! IT’S SO FREAKING ADORABLE!!!! OMG!!! HE WILL LOVE IT!

On a spring evening in 2006 I brought home a rabbit. At about a year old he sat still and cautious in the passenger seat of my Beretta. It took him about a month to warm up to me.

This rabbit was fearless. There was no person, dog, vacuum or car to which he cowered. He was also aggressively attached to my ankles. It became such a predictable behavior that I did not have a problem taking him outside for walks because he was always close by. He was like a child who wanted to see the world, but did not want to stray too far from big brother.

I never changed the name given to him by his previous owner, until of course the day came when I let him get too close to another rabbit. He fathered three kits shortly after. Bunny became Papa Bun.

He lived a long life for a domestic rabbit. On his tenth birthday his health began to seriously deteriorate. It hurt to see him like that. The day before he died I spent some time with him on the carpet in my apartment. He didn't have the strength to move about very much. He hobbled over to me, rest his head on my forearm, and slept. I cried. He died on the morning of my 26th birthday just before I came home from work. I drew up this illustration in remembrance of that first night I brought him home.

I never anticipated a rabbit having this great an impact on me, but I think about him every time I walk by the window where his cage used to be. And here I am, three months later, still in tears.