|Spirit Form||Steambunny, Shield Against Dark, Soother of heated dreams.|
|Purpose||Guide and, companion, and friend...|
Sir Bunz was companion, guardian, confidant, and friend for many years. He was very light brown with a white belly, and matching white insides to his ears with button brown eyes and an embroidered yarn style nose. His face was slightly long with no real mouth to speak of, just the suggestion of an opening just below his nose in black yarn strands. His ears were pretty long for his body which was kind of human like in the proportions – long, skinny and somewhat floppy. I haven’t seen a rabbit doll with similar qualities ever since, and I have looked.
I was a child who liked to explore and take things apart and really figure out how things worked. One day, in my explorations, I broke something moderately trivial of my mom’s and maybe it was just a cumulative thing, like the last thing she needed, or a final frustrating piece of news, or…just a last something, and as a punishment, she grabbed my arm, dragged me to my room and stood before me and said” You break something of mine, I will destroy something of yours” and took one of Sir Bunz’ long soft ears in each angry hand and proceeded to rip him in half in front of me as I cried and begged her not to.
To her, it was merely an inexpensive, lesson producing object at that moment, but to me, I was witnessing the cold blooded murder of a friend.
I have thanked him many times in my dreams for being there and being such a good friend that he would allow someone to take his life in order to protect me from harm, because that IS what he did. She might have smacked me, or beaten my behind if he had not been there as my shield and protector. I remember as she walked by me with the pieces of his rended skin and stuffing I tried to get my hands on his remains, but she lifted the pieces high over my head and wouldn’t let me touch him. I just wanted to touch him…. As she turned and raged down the hall from my bedroom and out the back door, she hadn’t noticed that Sir Bunz voice – a small squeaker had fallen to the floor. I picked it up and for years and years I kept the small squeaker. I think I may still have it in one of my memory boxes…As a side note, to this day, I cannot bear to see a stuffed animal harmed or mistreated in any way…Fortunately, it doesn’t happen that often.
I still think about him occasionally and will never forget his being there for me.