I walked into the kitchen to greet my mother.

“Cheyenne, help me get the cage out of the trunk”, she said.

“Cage? Wait, you got him?” I asked excited. Then I saw the small cardboard container by the door. Completely forgetting my moms request for help, I knelt by the box. I opened it slowly. Inside was tiny brown ball of fur; something I’d wanted for over 8 years, a bunny. I picked up the cowering creature. “He’s so small,” I remarked. The rabbit was a twisting snake in my hands, trying desperately to get free. His terrified eyes looked at me as though seeing a hungry monster. I held him close and kissed his thick fur. It felt soft like velvet.

*2 weeks later*

Hearing the sound of the tv, my moms heals danced their way into the room. She stopped when she found me with my baby boy ( as I had begun calling him) laying on my chest.

“Have you put that poor thing down for even a minute since we’ve had him?” she asked.

“Just one,” I laughed. “But he doesn’t want me to put him down. He loves me.” At that moment he began scratching at my shirt.

“Why is he doing that?” she wondered, watching as I put him in the plastic box beside me.
“I taught him to scratch my cloths when he has to go to the bathroom,” I said

“You trained him to do that? That’s incredible.”

“He’s a good boy,” I said lovingly. Then he hopped out of his box and cuddled up next to my leg.

“I know you hate the idea of so much school but you’d make a great vet,” my mom said petting his ears. “You’re just so good with animals. Ever since you were little they’ve been drawn to you.” She looked at me. “It’s a gift, Cheyenne and you shouldn’t waste it,” she concluded.
“I love them too, mom, but I don’t want to be a vet. I want to do something in writing or music.” She sighed and walked out. I hugged my soft companion. “She doesn’t see that it’s you who’s special,” I whispered as he licked my face. (Me and my boy, Willow)