Today, I watched Rabbits play kick-ball.

In an attempt to fill the big, empty feeling in my gut when I walk into my living room with my shoes still on and then realize I don’t have a dog to take out, I signed up for the SPCA. I figured I can cram my exercise and community service into one bundle: I can walk dogs a few times a week. I promised myself when I signed up that I wouldn’t take any animals home with me. I’m there to volunteer, not adopt.

But those damn bunnies.

I came in, went through the orientation session, and was shown the small animals room. A wall of fluffy bundles of fur with huge eyes and droopy ears looked at me. Stuffed animals come to life.

There are two on the floor.

Immediately, they stop what they’re doing and rush up to us. The man in front of me stares down awkwardly as both rabbits hop onto his shoes and viciously sniff him. Behind me, a rabbit is making a strange affectionate sound in his cage. The man in the room who was handling the rabbits rolls one of those blow-up childrens balls I see in the grocery store all the time.

The rabbits batted it back and forth together.

I had to look away and remind myself that I’m a broke college student with two cats, two turtles, and a very obese goldfish.