Brian Bunny was a lionhead who was a lionheart too. He was always my brave little soldier. I saw him in a pet shop that I went into with a work colleague (this is not something I would advocate now however and would always advise a sanctuary/rescue centre every time). I had never owned a bunny and had no intention of going home with one that day, but I saw this tiny white fluff ball sitting there looking completely different to all his siblings and it was love at first sight. I also knew straight away that his name could only be Brian.

And so Brian Bunny became our free range house rabbit and the centre of our lives for two months shy of his tenth birthday. The house will just never be the same without him.

Even though Brian was nearly ten, he was never really an old bunny, in looks or in character. He had a real zest for life, his eyes never losing their sparkle and often shining brightly with mischief or out on stalks at the mere whiff of anything remotely ginger smelling, running around madly and jumping all over the furniture and us. He was such a happy and well-loved bunny, a real fluffy bundle of joy.

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