The Right Stuff

This whole thing with the pet therapy has taken on a life of its own.

A few weeks ago, I got a call from a local library—they were doing a program on Max the Bunny, and they wanted to know if Bob would come for the program. Of course he would—he loves kids, so as his social secretary and driver, I made the arrangements. Plus, the librarian was so charming and had such a delightful sense of humor, I wanted to meet her. She said she would send some paperwork.

A few days ago in the mail, Bob received what appears to be a contract, of all things. I need to fill it out and mail it back before his appearance.

And today, a lady is coming to interview Bob for a small local paper. She, too, has a wonderful sense of humor. Since it is an interview, I have the feeling I will be doing a lot of the talking. Now I have become Bob’s publicist.

We are having a tremendous amount of fun with this, but during it all, Bob is the one who has remained focused on what is really important—his visits. He would prefer a carrot over his picture being in the paper--he would most likely eat the paper without glancing at the picture. He couldn’t care less that we decorate his basket with garland or ribbon or lights. He just goes into the facility, sits in his basket with his feet tucked under him in what we call the “Bunny Meatloaf,” and moves his nose while he quietly bonds with whoever is with him. He is the one who is getting it right.