Bunny Boy and Me: Nancy Laracy’s Triumph over Chronic Pain with the Help of the World’s Unluckiest, Luckiest Rabbit
I had the distinct pleasure of interviewing Nancy Laracy, author of "Bunny Boy and Me,” a few weeks ago before the drop of her new book. (And her first! Congrats, Nancy!) And just five minutes into our conversation, I knew that this was a book that would change the lives of people around the world. Even mine. We laughed (and I cried) about this magical story of a woman and her bunny, a story of pain, a story of love, a story of hope. And a story of the undeniable healing power of the animal, human bond.
Nancy and family bought bunny boy on a whim. In the middle of a snowstorm, the 2001 New Jersey blizzard. They’d no choice but to venture out in the snow-covered streets and freezing temps because Sunny, the Australian bearded dragon, was fresh out of crickets. So off to Scuffy’s Pet Store. They were able to find their crickets. And just happened to fall in love with a little red satin kit, too. So started the incredible relationship of a rabbit and her mom, Nancy.
While there was an instant connection, after nine months, Nancy started carrying Bunny Boy around with burp cloths. He was now the newest baby of the house. He’d lay on Nancy’s chest for hours, and her husband, Ward, thought she’d basically totally lost it. I mean… if I hadn’t read the book, I may have thought she’d lost it, too.
Bunny Boy became ill shortly before his first year of life, with, what doctors said, was an incurable abscess. Nancy said no. It’s not incurable. Operate. They did. Remember, guys… bunnies are weak and frail, and they don’t make it through anesthesia... a lot. Because they’re prey animals, they often will just give up; it’s their nature.
But not Bunny Boy. He was great for another four years, and the kids would use him as a mascot and at science fairs… he was basically a celebribun in the community.
What I haven’t mentioned until this point: Nancy was diagnosed in her mid-thirties with a mixed connective tissue disease and fibromyalgia and has chronic, chronic, I-can’t-move kind of pain. So many times it was hard for her to even get around. Out of bed. Out of the chair. Just move. And Bunny Boy could always, always sense when she didn’t feel well. That’s just one of the reasons their relationship was so strong. Both having illnesses, both having issues, but both holding the other up.
Bunny Boy’s abscess came back four years later. Surgery again, but complications: the abscess had spread to the hux. Nancy devoted so, so much time to caring for her baby. Syringe feeding for hours and hours a day, bandaging and re-bandaging paws. It was a full-time job, but she didn’t care. Not. One. Bit. She was happy. Bunny boy was happy. They were both happy, even though both in so much pain. But they had each other, and the love they had overpowered that pain.
Shortly after, Bunny Boy broke his jaw, right where they had operated on the abscess. Surely this is it, the doctors thought. This is definitely not it, knew Nancy. Nancy was right. Again. And although it took 12 weeks, with lots of pain meds, syringe feeding around the clock, and tons of rest, Bunny Boy’s jaw healed. What an iron bunny. Literally.
Bunny boy passed away five years later, after leading, seemingly, the happiest bunny life in the world. He was nine. Nancy was devastated, of course. Her Bunny Boy was her baby. (Gosh, I’m in tears as I write this.).
Nancy realized, though, that Bunny Boy had gotten her through her chronic pain. They both had it. And they both relied on their relationship to get the other through each day. But, she didn’t really know if she wanted another bunny. She decided for it, and named her Muffin. Muffin helped heal Nancy’s heart, and the hearts of children around the United States by becoming the first rabbit therapy bunny.
Nancy and Muffin traveled to Sandy Hook after the Newtown Connecticut shooting to help rehabilitate the kids. They went to Camp Dream Street, a camp for children with cancer, to rehabilitate. They went to Malibu Dude Ranch, a bereavement camp, to rehabilitate. Each program morphed into a bigger and bigger program. Nancy’s goal was animal therapy through rabbits; that’s what Bunny Boy gave her. And Nancy accomplished her goal.
There’s so much that I’ve left out of this article. So many funny stories. So many sad ones. So many scary stories. So many inspirational ones. It’s one of the most true, vulnerable, raw, real, encouraging and amazing books I’ve been honored to read.
The last question I asked Nancy during our interview was: “What do you hope out of this book?” Here is her answer.
- I want people to see that the healing power of the animal, human bond is very, very real.
- For people to realize what amazing pets rabbits can be if you give it time.
- The understanding that chronic pain is real. Even though others may not be able to see it physically, we need draw awareness to it. Never give up. Bunny Boy didn’t.
Such wonderful hopes for such a wonderful book. Thank you, Nancy, for sharing your story.
Buy a copy of “Bunny Boy and Me” here.
Check out Nancy’s media page here.
