I lifted my pet bunny, white silky fur, to my face so I could kiss him on the nose. He spoke in a calm voice.
"Set me down please, I'm thirsty. Please pour me a bowl of water."
I grabbed a bowl and ran it under the spigot. The tap water was dirty, looked like dish water with floating clumps of oatmeal and mushy brown rice. I dropped the bowl in the sink and reached for a new bowl. I filled it up with the remnants of my Dasani water bottle. My bunny lapped it up and squinted his happy eyes. I remember the lingering fondness for this bunny, and deep rooted sense that I would lay my life on the line for his survival.
Interpretations are invited.