Seamus
I cried the day I met you and I cried the day you left me.
From the moment I first held Seamus at the Humane Society in Hilliard, I knew we were bonded. Something about that wild, uneven mane and very obvious attitude had my heart from minute one. As I held him and heard his story – left on the steps of the shelter in a box, most likely a discarded Easter gift- I cried for him and promised that he would never be abandoned again. He sat calmly in my arms as I annoyingly dropped tears on his back and filled out the paperwork to bring him home. He was a bit of a sneaky little devil in that the only time he really let me hold him calmly was that moment. He did not like being held, but he did that day.
We had a bumpy ride together. He first moved in with me and an ex into a small apartment in Grove City, later uprooted to a house I hated in the suburbs, and later to a studio apartment in Clintonville when I finally got the guts to leave my ex. Seamus hated car rides. He was a nervous bun and would have a freak out each time. But after a few hours he would settle in, explore his new space, let me give him a bunch of pets and treats, and flop on his belly to relax.
Seamus was my confidant. I would cry to him, vent to him, tell him happy news. At times he would listen while I patted his head. At other times he would turn around and show me his backside communicating that I had annoyed him with too much of my emotions. Either way, he was my best friend and the only one I ever felt comfortable telling everything. For years I have suffered with borderline personality disorder and it’s taken a lot of work to be the person I am today. If I didn’t have that six pound ball of angry bunny to talk when alone, I don’t know where I would be today.
A few months after moving on our own, we met John. John was allergic to Seamus, but I told him we were a package deal. You either get both of us or none of us. I was probably antagonistic on telling him this. But Seamus loved John from moment one. They bonded immediately. John may have sneezed and had teary eyes in a different way than I did, but he would give Seamus pets all day and even had his own personal nickname for him. Little Guy.
My family also loved Seamus. I am very much a childfree person, so my parents knew they were never getting grandchildren from me. My mom didn’t mind and happily volunteered to watch the little guy while on trips. Seamus would run around her studio, often leaving his business in places it didn’t belong, little treats she would discover later. Never once did she complain. She just liked having him around. He had these deep, dark eyes that could stare right at you and melt your heart. He melted hers. Every. Single. Time.
We packed Seamus up for a long car ride to Dallas, Texas. He hated it. Of course he did. Once we arrived and set up his space, it only took a few hours to get him back to his annoyed self. He was a perpetually annoyed bunny, but we still knew that he loved us. Sometimes he would sneak out of his space and we’d find him exploring the bedroom. All you had to do was look over and say in a low tone, “Seamus, what are you doing?”, and like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar, he turned on his heel and went back to his carpet as if nothing was wrong.
Eventually we all moved back to Ohio and for a time Seamus stayed with my parents while we temporarily lived with a friend while searching for a place to live. It only took a few months and we moved to a house just a few streets from that apartment a few years ago in Clintonville. Seamus seemed happy to have a steady home base for a while. The only time he needed to leave was if we were going out of town and he had to go to my parents. Or if he had to go to the vet.
We loved on him every day. I would go downstairs and see John just sitting beside the pen, one hand with his phone and the other giving our boy pets. Seamus was never a cuddle bun, but when John walked in a room he ran over. Sometimes John would be in the middle of something and would stop every single time to bend down and make the bun bun happy and content.
I just wrote out a paragraph about all the vet visits and how Seamus was sick, but I’m erasing it. His life is more important than how it ended. I'm mostly sad he didn't get to stay around long enough to move with us to NYC. Something in my heart told me was was a city bun. He seemed to have the heart of a perpetually annoyed New Yorker.
He was my best friend. He got a thirty something man who rarely had animals and was allergic to him to love him. Seamus was my Lovebug, BunBun, Lumpy, (and often) Asshole (in the most loving way). I am going to miss him thumping at me when I talked too loud or when I had to vacuum his pen because he was a messy little guy. Or thumping because he didn’t like the sound on the TV. Or thumping at 4AM to wake us up just because. I would give anything to have him back.
I got to hold him one last time and, like the first time I met him, shed tears on his back. He was the joy of my life. I am so lucky he chose me on that day at the shelter. I don’t know when I will stop crying now. It will ebb and flow. But there will not be a day that goes by that I won’t be grateful for almost seven years with my best friend.
I love you buddy.