Goodbye, Max

Our first "baby", our pet bunny Max, passed away yesterday. 
We found Max at a mall pet store (something I swear I'll never do again) the day before Easter.  He was the biggest of the bunch of Easter bunnies that most likely wouldn't go home for Easter, meaning he had probably been there the longest; he panted and hopped around the small glass enclosure with his 40 or so bunny friends who all looked slightly desperate.  He also had the unfortunate circumstance of having a messy bowel movement stuck on is back, a detail which was sure to keep him from being purchased.  We felt terrible for him, and I begged Brendan all the way home to bring me back to the store to get him.  When we went back to the mall the next day, Easter Sunday, it was of course closed.  We went back again on Monday night, and the deal was that if he was still there, and still sporting the unfortunate poop, we would bring him home.  And he was still there, and the poop was still there.  No one had bothered to clean up the poor little guy, so we bought him and brought him home, against the rules, to our little apartment.  And then we gave him a good bath.
Did I mention we thought he was a girl?  We named him Max because we weren't 100% sure of his sex; we later found out because he developed a very close personal relationship with a blue bouncy ball from the grocery store.  He sure loved that ball!
Rabbits are incredibly social creatures, and when Max was our only little friend he often enjoyed free range of the house.  He loved to run, to hop up on our furniture and sit with us while we watched television.  His fur was quite possibly the softest thing I have ever felt in my life.  He was a cuddler, and would tuck his head beneath my chin when I held him, snuggling in close for as much love as he could get.  He was very affectionate; he would lick our fingers and rub his face on our hands when we petted him, and he'd make happy little purring noises when we played. 
With the onset of noisy dogs and rambunctious children, our quiet friend Max's freedom became more restricted.  But while he no longer got to run and play in the house, he began to be practically smothered with love by Harry and Emma.  They adored him in a way that only children can adore something.  They would sit by his hutch and "read" him books, they would show him their new toys, and they begged all day long to give him treats, pet him, or refresh his water.  If he was sleeping, Harry would say "Excuse me, Max.  I want to talk to you."  One of Emma's first words was "Maaaax".  They giggled when he cleaned his ears, and cheered when he hopped around wildly in a fit of happiness, as only bunnies do. 
And so, our Max, you will be missed.  Thank you for 7 1/2 years of silly antics, soft ears, and bunny kisses.  We love you.