The Tale of Rory Calhoun

Back in the late '90s, shortly after I graduated from College, I pseudo-inherited a budgie from a friend who had acquired a cat that was all too interested in getting to know the budgie in a manner the budgie would prefer to avoid. The budgie, poorly named Chirper, was given free reign in my apartment because, for the most part, I wouldn't acquire any animals that would make that an issue. Chirper, which you may have guessed, isn't really the subject of this story, but is why I was to acquire a young bunny to be called Rory. The pet store in Toronto that I usually purchased my pet seed at had quite of selection of animals available, including rabbits.

Now, I didn't specifically go there to acquire a rabbit, but it was in the back of my mind that it would really be nice to have a pet that I could, well, pet. Chirper was okay, but the closest I got to petting him was the Top Gun style fly-past that he would sometimes pull off as I was watching TV. In any event, my girlfriend and I made our way down to the pet store to purchase some seed for Chirper and, in the store, they had a little sign pointing to "Bunnies" available.

"I want to see the bunnies!" Kat proclaimed, and so off to the bunnies we went. Now, unlike the chain pet stores, this one didn't have a fancy display, they just had a big metal tub of small bunnies that you could look into.

So, I peered into the collection of young rabbits and most of them ignored me, except for this little grey gal who got up on her hind legs to look more closely at me. I laughed and commented, "look at that, standing on her hind legs like a little Rory Calhoun!" It was timely given that we had just watched that episode of The Simpsons where Mr. Burns makes that remark about a Dalmatian puppy.

At any rate, we left the bunnies and went to get the bird seed. Before we went to pay for it, Kat wanted to see the bunnies again. Again, as I peered over the edge of the tub, the little grey one rose up on her legs towards me. Kat proclaimed that to be fate and, sure enough, I took Rory home with me that day and finally had a pet that I could pet that wouldn't eat my budgie!

The Tale of Rory Calhoun

Back in the late '90s, shortly after I graduated from College, I pseudo-inherited a budgie from a friend who had acquired a cat that was all too interested in getting to know the budgie in a manner the budgie would prefer to avoid. The budgie, poorly named Chirper, was given free reign in my apartment because, for the most part, I wouldn't acquire any animals that would make that an issue. Chirper, which you may have guessed, isn't really the subject of this story, but is why I was to acquire a young bunny to be called Rory. The pet store in Toronto that I usually purchased my birdseed at had quite of selection of animals available, including rabbits.

Now, I didn't specifically go there to acquire a rabbit, but it was in the back of my mind that it would really be nice to have a pet that I could, well, pet. Chirper was okay, but the closest I got to petting him was the Top Gun style fly-past that he would sometimes pull off as I was watching TV. In any event, my girlfriend and I made our way down to the pet store to purchase some seed for Chirper and, in the store, they had a little sign pointing to "Bunnies" available.

"I want to see the bunnies!" Kat proclaimed, and so off to the bunnies we went. Now, unlike the chain pet stores, this one didn't have a fancy display, they just had a big metal tub of small bunnies that you could look into.

So, I peered into the collection of young rabbits and most of them ignored me, except for this little grey gal who got up on her hind legs to look more closely at me. I laughed and commented, "look at that, standing on her hind legs like a little Rory Calhoun!" It was timely given that we had just watched that episode of The Simpsons where Mr. Burns makes that remark about a Dalmatian puppy.

At any rate, we left the bunnies and went to get the birdseed. Before we went to pay for it, Kat wanted to see the bunnies again. Again, as I peered over the edge of the tub, the little grey one rose up on her legs towards me. Kat proclaimed that to be fate and, sure enough, I took Rory home with me that day and finally had a pet that I could pet that wouldn't eat my budgie!

As a note, Rory was with me for a little more than 10 years, long after I ended up with cats and guinea pigs as well. Her constant companion, ultimately, was a male guinea pig named Itsy from the first litter of guinea pigs I ever had. That may be a tale for year 2. :)