The computer said my next patient’s name was Lucifer, and that he was a domestic. Not that an unusual name for a pet, I have to admit.
“Come on in. Do you have Lucifer hiding in that box for me?” I say. A gentleman dressed all in black with a rather spiky aesthetic and a selection of piercings comes into my consult room and opens the box.
He places a perfectly black rabbit on the table.
Honestly, I had been expecting a cat.
Turns out Lucifer is his new rabbit. He’d insisted on taking it from a friend who wasn’t taking care of it a few months ago.
Lucifer, for his part, had decided the table was too scary and that his dad’s leather clad armpit was the best place to be.
To my surprise and delight, our new goth rabbit owner is doing everything right. Perfect diet, read up on rabbit health, vaccinating, enrichment, the works.
He even started a vegetable garden to grow treats for the rabbit, or as he put it, “tributes for lucifer.”
