Last night, I unexpectedly lost my beautiful 9-year-old Lionhead bunny, Bunbun.
She was so much more than "just a rabbit." She had been by my side since she was only six weeks old, and for the past nine years she has been my constant companion. The longest we were ever apart was three months while I was out west in 2020. Other than that, we experienced life together every single day.
About two years ago, life became incredibly unstable. I lost my housing, left a difficult situation in Maryland, and eventually made my way to Florida hoping to find peace, healing, and a fresh start by the ocean. Through every mile, every hotel room, every pet sit, every night in my vehicle, and every challenge along the way, Bunbun was right there beside me.
She wasn't just my pet.
She was my family.
I don't have children of my own, and I don't have family to lean on. Bunbun became my best friend, my emotional support, my source of comfort, and my reason to keep going through some of the hardest years of my life. (I even have a doctor's letter recognizing her as my emotional support animal.) She was sweet, feisty, incredibly brave, and adapted to every unexpected turn our lives took together with a quiet resilience that amazed me.
Her passing happened so suddenly that I'm still trying to process it. Today I made the difficult decision to have her cremated so that she can continue traveling with me wherever life leads. I'm also having her tiny front paws preserved in plaster as a keepsake.
As if the emotional weight wasn't enough, while driving to the crematory I discovered that my driver's side window had stopped working and is now stuck open. My 20-year-old vehicle already needs several repairs, including a windshield, an oxygen sensor, and possible exhaust repairs after I've recently begun smelling exhaust fumes.
I am self-employed, and my income comes from online customer service. I spend long hours answering phone calls, emails, and chats, helping people the best I can—but the income is never guaranteed. Some weeks are good, while others are incredibly difficult. Right now I also pay between $400 and $500 every week just to keep a hotel room over my head.
For the first time in a long time, I simply need a little breathing room.
I need time to grieve without immediately worrying about how I'm going to pay for everything. I need to cover Bunbun's cremation and memorial keepsakes, repair my car window, and take a short break so I can process this loss before returning to work.
I'm hoping to raise $1,000, which would help cover these immediate expenses and allow me a little space to heal. Asking for help has never come easily to me, but right now I truly need it. I don't have family or a financial safety net to fall back on, and I've been living paycheck to paycheck for quite some time.
If you're able to donate, no matter the amount, I will be deeply grateful. If you're unable to contribute financially, simply sharing this fundraiser would mean the world to me.
Bunbun lived a remarkable little life. She traveled across multiple states, visited countless hotels and pet sits, watched sunsets by the ocean, and even lived with me in my car when that was all we had. Through every hardship, she remained curious, loving, resilient, and full of personality.
She showed me that home isn't always a place—sometimes it's simply being together. I will miss her every day, but I will carry her love, her courage, and her spirit with me wherever I go.
Thank you for taking the time to read our story and for considering helping me during one of the most difficult moments of my life.
To Bunbun's legacy. ❤️
