Things with Feathers: Hunting for rabbits

Rebekah Tuchscherer

Early this spring, I started a rabbit hunt.

It didn’t look much like the kind you see in movies. It was still a game of “wait and see,” but there were no leafy bushes to hide in, no camouflaged vests and no rifles.

Instead, it was a weekly hunt through the webpages of my local humane society, waiting for the just the right bunny to show up that would be in need of a good home.

That’s when I found TJ.

TJ’s a one-year-old Dutch rabbit. He has black fur with a bit of white on his face and a big white band in the middle of his torso - kind of like a hampshire pig. He’s always down for cheek rubs, and can typically be found snoozing under a chair when not chomping on some Timothy hay or romaine lettuce. A big fan of funk music, he’ll cuddle up underneath the vinyl record player when it’s on, but will head for a hiding spot if the beat gets a little too sick.

While TJ stayed in an enclosed area of the dining room when I first adopted him, he’s since learned to use his litter box and now freely roams the house. I’ll often hear him hopping up the stairs to where I work, and, upon opening my bedroom door, he’ll circle my legs until I scratch his head for awhile.

In reality, that “rabbit hunt” probably didn’t have to be six months. There are rabbits almost always ready to be adopted, anywhere you go. But, as a recent college graduate, I had to make sure that my home, living situation and pocketbook were also ready to adopt TJ.

Housepets, especially in times of change, quarantine or general uncertainty, can make for good friends. They’re mostly reliable, cute, cuddly and always willing to be good company (at least in exchange for a few lettuce leaves).

TJ, a one-year-old Dutch rabbit, likes to eat blueberries and sleep under living room chairs.