Hello. It’s Belinda.
The big news is that the St. Patrick’s Day healthy snackers are back. Cilantro pear flavor.
I’m really not supposed to promote one snacker over another but let me say this. Once your rabbit tries this limited edition treat you need to hide your laptop and credit cards. If you know what I mean.
You can buy a bag “a la carte” or as part of a Leprechaun bundle. Either way you get a sticker of me standing in a field of clovers. My roommate put one on the refrigerator which is embarrassing.
The other big news is we had a wind storm here in Pittsburgh and the electricity went out. No lights and no Wi-Fi for two days.
So I got behind at work again which is bad timing. For one thing, my “hay house” plans were due three weeks ago. And I’m still working on ideas my friends left in the comment box.
I thought my roommate would be upset about losing power, what with her big secret job at Small Pet Select. Ever since I got that letter from HR I can’t stop wondering what her job is and when she started it.
Because as far as I can tell, she just goofs around on the computer all day. Not to be rude but that does not seem like “go-getter” behavior.
The night of the storm was no different.
“Isn’t this fun, Belinda?”
My roommate was walking through the bottom level and she kept crashing into things. That’s because she was trying to carry two water bowls, a flashlight and a bag of the cilantro pear snackers.
The light beam zig-zagged on the walls and ceiling instead of the floor and, just after she bumped into the washing machine, she stepped on one of my chew balls.
She didn’t fall but she threw her arm out for balance and the bag of snackers sailed through the air. Turns out the bag was open and treats landed everywhere.
My roommate laughed and laughed. Which is not professional.
This is why I can’t picture her in charge of inventory or writing reports. She’s not that type.
So once the power came back, I spent the rest of the week trying to see what was on her laptop screen.
But not in an obvious way. Just acted like I wanted to work in the dining room for a change. Set myself up at an angle where I could spy on her a bit.
First thing she did was watch a movie. Something old-timey called “Citizen Kane.”
“I’ll use these headphones, Belinda. So the sound doesn’t disturb you.”
I don’t know what Citizen Kane has to do with hay but maybe that’s the whole idea. Maybe my roommate’s job is to “think outside the box” as they say in the leadership books.
Every time I turned my head toward her laptop, which was on the dining room table as usual, I felt my roommate giving me a side look. So I kept moving my head, as if I was stretching through a neck cramp.
This went on for two days. The problem is, I kept nodding off. And my roommate was giving me more and more side looks so I had to cut back on the head swivels.
One afternoon, just as I was ready to give up, I got my chance.
I was deep into a nap when I woke to a loud noise. Water running upstairs. Which meant my roommate was taking a shower and I had at least 10 minutes to collect “intelligence.”
Her laptop was on the table, wide open. I could see rows of numbers.
I climbed onto her chair to get a closer look and the instant that I arranged myself on the seat the screen went black.
I didn’t dare touch any of the keys after what I just went through with HR. I squinted into the webcam, wondering if the tech team was watching.
But then something unexpected happened.
A photograph of the English appeared on the screen. He was napping in his hay box and sunlight was hitting his whiskers. I had to admit it was a flattering photo, even though I felt a bit “put out” that he was the screen saver.
Except he wasn’t. The screen went black again and then a new photo appeared.
It showed my boyfriend and his companion, standing shoulder-to-shoulder, eating parsley. My stomach jumped when I saw his face, if you want to know the truth. I miss him so much.
The screen changed one last time and when I saw what my roommate chose, I knew my spying days were over.
It was a photo she took the day she picked me up at the animal shelter. It shows one of the best moments of my life.
When my roommate arrived that day, she opened the door of my crate. She didn't say anything, just waited patiently for me to step toward her.
She’s always patient with me, to be honest. “Lets me be me.”
When I look at the baby rabbit in that photo I want to tell her everything.
Because back then, I had no idea what was ahead. Living here with my roommate and the others. Being hired as a spokesrabbit. Having all the hay a rabbit could want and snackers all over the floor.
All I knew as I waited in that shelter is that I wanted something better. And maybe that’s all my roommate wants too.
And if "better" means a secret job at Small Pet Select, watching movies and reading rows of numbers all day, that's her business, not mine.
And that is fine with me.
Spokesrabbit, Small Pet Select