It was love at first sight.

I knew from the second I saw you that it was meant to be. I looked at all the other rabbits in the shelter -- I even went back to the overflow room -- but I kept coming back to you, sitting on the floor in front of your cage and crooning in that ridiculous voice that you probably hate. I got you that day and I hugged your travel box to my chest the whole way home.

Once we had gotten you settled, I lay on the floor in front of your open cage for hours at a time. I wanted you to be comfortable with me, to be able to trust me. It was also the best spot to look at you, and I wanted to do that all the time. You were, and still are, so pretty.

You're also almost painfully cute. You yawn and stretch like a dog, which is ridiculous, and when you wash yourself, you start by sitting up on your back legs and kicking your front paws like a poorly trained boxer. You even clean your ears, tilting your head over until they flop to one side and then grabbing them with your paws.

You are ridiculously smart. Pavlov could have tested his theory on you, because you definitely prove it. Every time I open the drawer where I keep your pellets, you immediately jump into your cage because you know I'm going to lead you in there anyway. When you're in the living room and someone walks to the kitchen, you sit patiently at the edge of the rug and wait for them to bring back food for you. You're definitely a dog in disguise.

You are also infuriating. You have ruined at least three laptop chargers, five phone chargers, and a couple miscellaneous cords. If you had any concept of money, you would probably owe me close to one hundred dollars by now. You have chewed on my sweaters, pants, shoes, bags, and belts, and once ate a hole in one of my shirts while I was wearing it. Not to mention everything I own is covered in a one-inch layer of white fur that defies every pet-hair remover I throw at it.

See, you shed like a dog ten times your size, and you shed constantly. It is currently winter, and I could probably make a sweater out of all your loose fur that you won't let me pull off. I don't know why you hate it so much, but every time I try to groom you, you bolt away and will barely look at me for days. I have never met an animal so good at holding a grudge.

But you're a great companion when you're not angry at me. There's no feeling like being chosen by a picky animal, and when you jump up on my bed or desk and won't stop nudging me until I pet you, my heart is the most full it could ever be. You have gotten me through so much, and considering the fact that you came into my life in high school, that is no small thing.

Despite all the cords and clothes you have ruined and the monumental amount of noise and mess you make, I could not love you more.

I am so grateful to have you in my life.

Sharing watermelon last summer.