A rabbit passed away this week. Some of my readers will say: Awww that’s a shame. Some of my readers will actually say: So what? It’s just a rabbit.

Let me tell you about him. His name was Scooch. Scooch was a Mini Rex, like my own Miss Moo. He was also an abandoned bunny. No one knows for sure how old he was, but in 2009 he was noticed around a neighbourhood along with another rabbit.

In March 2010, the other rabbit was found dead on the side of the road, hit by a car. A week later, Scooch was found on a families lawn, with his back legs not working. Eventually he found his way into the care of a lady named Lisa. It was determined that his back had been broken, and the little fellow was paralyzed.

Most stories like this would end right here with me saying that the rabbit was put to sleep as he would never recover, and would have a poor quality of life. Interesting phrase that….”quality of life”. Little Scooch was not put down, and the quality of his life was superb.

He became the little bunny that could. Paralyzed? No problem…he grew to be strong in his front legs, and could “scooch” as fast and as good as any other bunny could hop. Being paralyzed he also had a diaper, and he never let that hold him back either. Scooch had not one but TWO girlfriends. They were as devoted to him as he was to them. When his mate Hattie became deathly ill, and could not stand up on her own, Scooch, the little bunny that could, helped nurse her back to health. He would prop her up so that she would not roll over so much, and would wash her face over and over so she would be soothed and comforted.

Every year at BunFest, the annual outreach and fundraising event for Rabbit Rescue Inc, Scooch was there to show people that a disabled rabbit could be happy, and have an excellent quality of life. He inspired everyone who met him, including myself. His legacy lives on in the dozens of disabled rabbits that are being cared for due to the example he set.

He was a hero to hundreds of people, but for himself, he was just a happy boy who loved life, and reveled in what he COULD do. If he could no longer jump in the air (binky) like other bunnies, he would instead throw his head up and shake it to show his joy.

Here are the remembrances of a few of Scooches human admirers.

Jeanne says:

It was truly special when I saw Scooch in the garden for the first time…not his first time, cause he was out as often as all the other bunnies, but rather the first time I saw him myself, in person. There he was in his well-fitting diaper, a fit designed to keep him dry, protect his fragile skin, and of course give the ultimate “glide” along the ground cover. I could see in no time, that he had not only adapted to his broken body, but he excelled at moving quickly around the property. His joy, adventure and curiosity shone through his very awkward gait. I could finally see why Lisa felt compelled to invite one more broken bunny into her home, she saw in him the capacity for joy, and knew that he deserved a chance to live his best life possible. If there was a doubt in my mind about Lisa’s choice, it disappeared that day. Scooch, you had the best life possible, and were loved by sister-bunnies, and all the humans who met you. You were such a great example of what could be, to those who may have bailed before their bunnies were ready to go. You deserved to know the kind of love, care and acceptance you got, as you now deserve to be free of your broken body, and are once again whole. Run free little one.

Michelle says:

I’ve seen videos of two-legged cats, two-legged dogs, pigs in wheelchairs, a goldfish in a sling (I swear!) and all of them, every single one, carried on with life. They had no self pity, no grudges, no depression, just a will to live and a love of life. For me, Scooch is the epitome of this very amazing animal ability. With no use of his back legs, that little guy lived on. He never let his paralysis get in the way of moving around, loving Hattie, playing, napping, lounging, eating. He never minded his condition, but we as humans grieved for him because of all of the things he couldn’t do. But animals don’t do that, and neither did Scooch. For me, he will always be a shining example of how to live life to its fullest, how to not let things beyond your control limit your dreams. His life was one of love, acceptance, perseverance and inspiration. I have included a link to my favourite video of Scooch – him binkying in the backyard on a warm summer day. There he is, a little bunny in a diaper, pulling himself through the silky grass, breathing the air, listening to all the sounds, and binkying! Shaking his little head as his only way to express his pure joy at that moment in time, blissfully unaware of the disadvantages that we felt pity for on his behalf. Wow, were we ever wasting our time ❤

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3k7VK5YwDJ4&sns=em

Kimmy says:

The one thing I remember most about Scooch is the incredible kisses he gives. I was visiting Lisa with Jeanne and we were all sitting, holding a bunny each while chatting.

Scooch was nestled on my chest with my arm around him. He reached that sweet little face up and started giving me the softest little bunny kisses all up and down my cheek and chin.

That little bunny, although disabled, had so much love to give. His body may not have worked for him, but his heart worked overtime with the love. 🙂

He will always have a special place in my heart.

Susan says:

They say lightning never strikes twice in the same place. It is a once in a lifetime event. For many people, meeting Scooch is a once in a lifetime shot of inspiration. How fitting it is that when he began his tenure as a Bruce Bunny, his name was Lightning. He is a remarkable rabbit, cared for by a remarkable woman. The bond that Lisa and Scooch share is enviable – rarely do you find such a true and pure example of unconditional love and dedication. Scooch was a casanova, he was a prankster, and he was happy. The Rainbow Bridge will never be the same…it will be better. The love that Scooch embodied was pure, it was deep, it was kind, and it was infectious. He cared for his girls, Hattie and Belle with the joy and unapologetic enthusiasm of a binky. He loved. He is love. He loved having his ears scratched. He loved his twig tunnel. He loved his lettuce box. He loved food. He DID NOT love Gleason’s visits from the other side of the fence. He loved treats. He loved doing half-head-shake binkies. He DID NOT love being held. He loved the hostas. He loved scooching up and down the hill. He loved farting. But most of all, he loved Lisa. Scooch loved playing tricks on people. His favourite trick was to sit in such a way that an unsuspecting person might become frantic and panicked truly believing that his leg had ACTUALLY fallen off. Just as this unsuspecting person would make a plea to Lisa to “come HERE!” He would put his leg back on and change the words in his speech bubble from “my leg fell off!” To “GOTCHA”! But I wouldn’t know anything about that. Scooch was a prankster, but by far his most common trick was stealing people’s hearts. The Rainbow Bridge will never be the same. It will be better. Scooch brings to the Bridge the love, compassion, light and energy that he picked up from the hundreds of people who have been touched by his story. But most of all, he brings to the Bridge a Scooch-heart full of love, appreciation, and peace for his soul-mate, Lisa. The world will never see another bunny just like Scooch. I guess it is true…Lightning really doesn’t strike twice in the same place.

Over the past few weeks the strain of moving only on his front limbs really began to take its toll on his little body. He was about to lose all mobility and one of his two remaining limbs that worked had to be immobilized. More importantly his spirit declined. Despite medication, he was in pain, and was not the joyous Scooch we all loved and admired so much. It was time. He had lived a life of SUCH high quality, but that quality had declined. The decision was made to help him painlessly to the other side.

He may have been “just a bunny”, but he will be sorely missed, not only by his guardian Lisa and his mate Hattie, but also by me, and literally hundreds and hundreds of others. This was the story of Scooch, the little bunny that could. You’re in a better place now little man. We miss you.