Ginny's major malfunction

Sometimes an animal in a shelter or sanctuary will treat you one way when you interact with them at the shelter, and then be totally different the second you get them home.

I remember this happening with every cat we had when I was growing up.  The cat we picked out at the Humane Society was never the same cat who came home with us.  The second their paws hit the floor in our house their true colors came out.

Ginny is the most extreme example of this phenomenon I've ever encountered.  And the weird thing is she continued to dupe us for a while before she decided to get real.

I'll admit, I brought her home from River's Wish based purely on her cute, cute, cute looks.  She is absolutely pint-size and has the snowiest white fur with calico markings.  Freaking adorable.

She was one of the only unpaired rabbits at RW, so I thought she'd be a good third wheel to the brothers.  They worry me sometimes because they are SO joined at the hip it seems likely that when one of them passes, the other will be so heartbroken he'll soon follow.  

(I have such a good life I can afford to worry about stupid shit like that.  Also I'm using "worry" in the loosest sense of the word.) 

At River's Wish, she cuddled right up under my chin and fell asleep.  And this behavior, which is basically my dream behavior of any animal because it satisfies some need in me that I am not at all proud of, continued for about six weeks.

 She took real naps with me.  It was crazy.

And then all of a sudden she just wasn't that into us.

She's become the frostiest most curmudgeonly tiny white rabbit you'd ever care to meet.  

She's like an adorable child star who knows how to trade on her good looks but is an utter brat.

And damn if I don't love her all the more for her aloofness.  It is so incongruous with her schmoopy exterior it's hilarious.

Also we thought she was still a baby when we got her but she never grew any bigger.

My little Ebeneezer Thumbelina.

Love, J