Park Sutton
12.07.05 (7:05 pm) [edit]
So, today is "Fire Day".
Doesn't matter what else happened on this day in History, to me and Bunny, it will always be Fire Day.
On December 7, 1977, the apartment complex Bunny and I lived in was burned down. I got out. Bunny didn't. Bunny got stuck there, until he was picked up out of the mess. There was a lot of ice because it was winter. There was a lot of other people's things in our apartment that had washed in with the water. That's what I was told.
Bunny had to be put into the washing machine. We were at my step-father's parents house where, thankfully, they had one. So, Bunny went into the device. He looked pretty scared, but he made it through.
Then, it turned out that Bunny couldn't dry. Bunny had cotton inside. I was very sad.
...but, my step-father's mother, little did I know, had a license to perform Stuffisurgery. I found out because I walked in on it.
Bunny was pinned, by his ears, to a long rope, gutted.
I cried and I cried and I cried.
I waited in the Stuffihospital lounge, trying to distract myself with the tv. My sister was there too. Her Teddy went through the fire. She was crying too.
After a while, I watched while Bunny got his new organs and got stitched up. He needed a tail transplant, but it went ok.
Bunny never completely got over the horror of it all. We talk about it sometimes. He has flashbacks when he gets a bath.
We're still truckin' on though, me and Bunny. We may both be miserable fucks, but hey... at least we're cute.
Doesn't matter what else happened on this day in History, to me and Bunny, it will always be Fire Day.
On December 7, 1977, the apartment complex Bunny and I lived in was burned down. I got out. Bunny didn't. Bunny got stuck there, until he was picked up out of the mess. There was a lot of ice because it was winter. There was a lot of other people's things in our apartment that had washed in with the water. That's what I was told.
Bunny had to be put into the washing machine. We were at my step-father's parents house where, thankfully, they had one. So, Bunny went into the device. He looked pretty scared, but he made it through.
Then, it turned out that Bunny couldn't dry. Bunny had cotton inside. I was very sad.
...but, my step-father's mother, little did I know, had a license to perform Stuffisurgery. I found out because I walked in on it.
Bunny was pinned, by his ears, to a long rope, gutted.
I cried and I cried and I cried.
I waited in the Stuffihospital lounge, trying to distract myself with the tv. My sister was there too. Her Teddy went through the fire. She was crying too.
After a while, I watched while Bunny got his new organs and got stitched up. He needed a tail transplant, but it went ok.
Bunny never completely got over the horror of it all. We talk about it sometimes. He has flashbacks when he gets a bath.
We're still truckin' on though, me and Bunny. We may both be miserable fucks, but hey... at least we're cute.
posted by: Cutter (reply)
post date: 12.07.05 (7:10 pm)
Tere,
I think that we use stuffed animals emotionally... I couldn't cry about the fire, but I could cry over Bunny. Same for my sister.
Today, Bunny is a part of me. He looks as grumpy as I usually feel.
It's easier to say "Bunny doesn't like her", than I don't like her... or "Bunny tells me to go blow, when I ask him if he would do the dishes", rather than I don't want to do the dishes.
Too, stuffed animals never judge you, and they're always there when you need company.
posted by: RavensWings (reply)
post date: 12.10.05 (3:50 pm)
My guilt for not remembering kept me from responding to this entry, I apologize...for both.
Such trauma, and sadness, and I don't know what to say, other than, I'm SO sorry :(
You've been dealt such a shitty hand for so long now, I can't help but use my famous battle cry of It's NOT fair.
Glad you and Bunny are still truckin' though, my heart swells to know that you are.
