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Bunny was born at the Homer Animal Shelter to a stray mother cat. She had severe glaucoma and eye abnormalities that left her with only the vaguest type of vision. She was the only one of the litter with eye problems and while her siblings found homes, I worried about the little tortoiseshell with the big blue eyes. Her eyes had started to swell when she was only a few weeks old and I knew she would probably need medical care--and someone to make a commitment to it--for the rest of her life. That was us--I brought her home so she could learn her way around our house before her vision faded completely. Bunny can still see a small amount. She can follow motion and sees well enough to confuse one white cat for another--growling at Pickle Boy instead of Frannie, her nemesis. Bunny loves to retrieve things--jingle balls, milk carton tops, small balls of paper. She climbs onto high or precarious places then waits patiently for someone to come along and rescue her. She is the best fly-catcher in the house, handily beating out the cats with normal vision to the prize. At night, she becomes as dense as a neutron star, curling up in the center of the bed and resisting displacement--a familiar, heavy pressure against the backs of my knees. It is comforting to know she is there. |
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