A couple of weeks after my lovely pooch died, my almost as lovely other half tipped me into the car…read moreand drove me to Pets At Home.
'You need something small and furry to cuddle,' he opined as he parked, really quite badly, in the massive car park. 'Apart from me, of course.'
Well. I'd never thought of getting a rabbit, but when I saw Bailey, lop-eared and twitchy-nosed, in one of the glass enclosures, I became a bit childlike. I bounced on the balls of my feet a bit, tugged at the other half's sleeve and batted my eyelashes in an alluring manner. (Hang on, that last one's just creepy.)
The other half went to find a staff member, while I lurked jealously by the bunny's enclosure, shooting filthy looks at anyone who came near. Especially kids. But he was back within a minute with a very impressively knowledgeable sales assistant, who told me everything I needed to know about rabbits and what to get them.
(I wasn't listening by this stage because she'd taken the rabbit out for me and I was cuddling her and cooing into her fur [the rabbit, that is, not the sales assistant, because that would also have been creepy]. But a general sense of really-knowing-her-stuff came through the haze of love.)
The shop in general is very well equipped with everything you could need for all types of pet, and the prices are really reasonable, with a budget range of essentials like feeding bowls or doggy poop scoopers starting at a quid. So we duly got all the equipment we needed for the new member of the household, which included a special starter deal for the cage, food, feeding bowl, bottles and toys. Then we very gently took that wascally wabbit home.
She's well settled in now, leaves little poo balls everywhere and has been the cause of me electrocuting myself three times with a lead she's chewed through. But I loves her. Cheers, Pets At Home.