The Chicago Chronicles: amie

It all began last month, when Red Door held its quarterly Spa-Dee-Da Day at the shelter. This is a fundraising event, and it goes like this: People bring their rabbits to the shelter, where they register them and select from a menu of spa treatments including nail trim, ear cleaning, grooming, massage and glamor shots. Each treatment has a cost; participants pay and their rabbits are brought to a side room that has been emptied. Blankets line the floor, and volunteers perform the services requested.

Each Spa-Dee-Da Day has a theme, and this one was disco. I was volunteering, but I brought the bunnies for some glamor shots. When I walked in, Donna Summer was singing "Bad Girls" from a boom box, and a table laden with snacks (for humans and rabbits) was against the wall. I signed in my bunnies and, since I'd be there all day, put them in a clean cage. This is where I'd adopted Leroy, and he had a J'accuse! look on his face. I could practically read his thoughts: "I don't chew things, I use the litterbox, I've tolerated this whack job of a mini-lop, I have been a good boy. So why am I back here?!?!?"

Their cage was in the main rabbit area, and many rabbit people associated with the shelter felt free to hold the rabbits up for adoption. At one point I came in to see a young woman snuggling Amie. I could see one wide eye staring at me from behind the woman's neck.

"Oh my GOD," her face said.

I laughed and told the woman that Amie was mine, but that she should keep holding her because it was good for her.

The time came for the glamor shots, and I brought Amie and Leroy to the "set," which looked like a TV set for dolls. As I approached, Toni, the President, came up to me.

"I need you." She handed me a mirror and some powder. "I need cocaine."

"You got it," I said. I headed to the kitchen, where I put a line of powder (ground papaya tablets, actually -- good for rabbit digestion) in a line on the mirror and rolled up a dollar bill.

All in all, the rabbits did pretty well, considering there were hot lights and costumes. Toni was assisting the photographer for most of the day, and kept telling people, "I'm the fluffer." I finally asked her whether she knew what that term really meant.

Big grin. "Yep."

I love this place.

Amie was more agitated than Leroy, and moved around quite a bit; at the end of the shoot she actually leaped onto my shoulder, then to the floor, drawing gasps from everyone around.

"She's fine," I assured them. "She's just part squirrel."

So here, ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Amie and Leroy. Toot-toot; beep-beep.