It’s taken me a long time to get around to this, but I think it’s finally time that I wrote about Muffy.

Back in January, in the depths of an awful Japanese winter, I was feeling pretty grotty.

They aren’t big on heating where I live in Japan, so I was spending most of my waking hours with blue hands, huddled in whichever uncomfortable position I felt would retain the most heat.

I was just cold constantly and it wasn’t very nice.

In addition to that (or rather, because of that) I wasn’t going out as much as I probably should have, or doing very much exercise or seeing very much sunlight.

Pretty much the only reason I would leave my house, aside from going to work, was to cycle to my friend’s house where we would huddle together and drink red wine.

With all of this combined, in the post-Christmas period, when the excitement of the holidays had been replaced with the soul-wrenching decision of whether or not to leave Japan, I was feeling pretty SAD.

This came to a head one day in late January when Sarah, Leandi, Saad and I were driving through the snow on the way back from Tokushima and for no apparent reason I burst into tears.

I just sat in the back seat of the car and cried without being able to explain why, which made me feel crazy as well as sad.

We decided that a trip to the pet shop would be good for all of us–Leandi and Sarah had been the day before and seen a giant bunny that they wanted to see again–so we headed to Amigos for a bit of animal therapy.

When we arrived, it was almost dark and the snow was falling really heavily, so it was wonderful to walk into the pet store, which seemed so bright and lively and happy compared to the rest of the world.

Puppies! Kittens! Hamsters! Chinchillas! A giant bunny! Pet shops are a wonderful place to go when you’re feeling sad!

Actually, maybe they’re a terrible place to go when you’re feeling sad. Rational thinking is hard when your eyes are leaking and you want to climb into a giant pile of pillows and never come out.

The giant bunny (which we named Myboobs) was enormous, and we briefly debated the merits of getting a bunny bigger than my bathtub, but thankfully we weren’t crazy/sad enough to think that was a good idea.

But in the enclosure next to the giant bunny were a bunch of little baby bunnies.

Adorable little baby bunnies.

After some calm discussion (squealing and more tears) the four of us made a rational and well-thought out decision (kind of) to get a joint bunny.

We pointed to the silliest, fluffiest, most adorable bunny in the enclosure and asked to have a cuddle.

Why you never take emotional girls to a pet shop.

Why you never take emotional girls to a pet shop.

It was at that point that we lost any shred of restraint we might have had left.

We paid the (enormous) sum of money for rabbit, cage, food, water bottle and treats, and went back out into the snow the proud owners of a tiny, ridiculous bunny.

Since that time, she has been cuddled, loved, dressed up, fed wine, and moved house three times.

This is a bunny drinking wine.  We are bad parents.

This is a bunny drinking wine.
We are bad parents.

She has also peed on inconvenient surfaces, chewed on everything she shouldn’t have, and learnt how to jump alarmingly high.

And since yesterday she lives at my house.

She’s scared of my floors, which may be a problem, and she’s already found and peed on the only non-wipable surface in my apartment, but she’s pretty adorable.

And now that I have summer AND Muffy, I’m going to be SO happy!



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