The Room We Haven’t Built Yet
There is a room in Houston that doesn’t exist yet.
In that room, the lights are soft. The air is quiet. A rabbit takes a breath that doesn’t hurt.
We imagine it because we’ve already seen what happens when care arrives just in time.
King Arthur came to us with a massive testicular tumor, cancer already spreading through his body. What he needed most was dignity. We made him a kingdom of fleece and gentle hands and promised the rest of his days would be soft.
Lazarus arrived barely holding on, covered in fleas, struggling to breathe, his small body overwhelmed by illness. Step by careful step, with medical care and a foster who believed in him, Lazarus began to surprise us. He eats. He explores. He nudges for pets like he has everything to live for. He reminds us that recovery is not a straight line, but it is possible.
Freyja came in as a stray. During her spay, the vet discovered her uterus had ruptured and her babies had already died. Another day outside and she likely would not have woken up. Thanks to our fosters and veterinary partners, she healed. Today, she is spoiled in her forever home.
Nutmeg was found huddled in a cold, rain-filled ditch on a Monday morning that could have ended very differently. She was soaked, scared, and fragile. Warmth, food, and patient care changed her story. She is food-motivated, curious, and healing, one safe day at a time, because someone had room to say yes.
Cloud 9 waited in a city shelter with mats so tight they pulled when he moved. One of our volunteers saw pain, not “messy,” and we transferred him to HRR. Snip by careful snip, the rabbit inside the knots came back. He leaned into a hand like it was the first soft thing in the world.
Bunny Foo Foo was found frightened and alone near a college campus. Days later, before her intake appointment, her foster called in a panic. Bunny Foo Foo was nesting. The next morning, four tiny lives were discovered, warm and wiggling beneath the hay. Because someone intervened in time, a dumped rabbit became a devoted mother, and four babies got the chance to grow up safe.
Butch Cassidy survived a BB gun. His bunwife did not. We said his name out loud and held him while he healed, because grief belongs to rabbits too.
We have stepped in when rabbits were going to be euthanized simply for being rabbits. We have partnered with veterinarians to host vaccine clinics and low-cost spay and neuter so families, often quoted hundreds elsewhere, can say yes to care.
What we do not have yet is the room that makes all of this reliable, calm, and close at hand.
We do not have a building yet. We have a blueprint in our hearts:
A quiet intake room.
A grooming nook where mats become relief.
A small medical space.
An adoption gallery with roomy ex-pens.
A classroom for Bunny Basics and bonding support.
A food and litter pantry.
An affordable boarding space that gives families peace of mind when they travel.
A tiny boutique to help keep the lights on.
A place to say yes more often.
Until the key turns, we are asking you to help us gather the pieces.
Things that turn space into safety
-Sturdy shelving, lidded bins, utility carts
-X-pens and panels, NIC grids, washable rugs
-Litter boxes, ceramic bowls, scales, carriers
-Lockable cabinets, stainless tables, HEPA purifiers
-Washer and dryer, towels, shop-vac, mini fridge or freezer
-A desk, a couple of chairs, a whiteboard, a quiet lamp
Hands that shape the room
-Electricians, plumbers, HVAC, carpenters
-Flooring, paint, light demo and build-out
-IT and security support
-Designers, photographers, storytellers
-Nonprofit legal and accounting, grant writers, marketers
If you can pledge an item, a Saturday, or a skill, now or when we are closer, please fill out our Founding Supporter Form with your name, phone number, and what you would like to offer. We will keep you updated and call you in when it is time.
King Arthur taught us that the end of a life can be full of love.
Lazarus taught us that healing can come from the brink.
Freyja taught us that a last-second rescue can become a beginning.
Nutmeg taught us that warmth and patience can rewrite a cold morning.
Cloud 9 taught us that “messy” can be pain, and pain can be eased.
Bunny Foo Foo taught us that even after fear, new life can bloom.
Butch Cassidy taught us that even small animals mourn, and that helping hands matter.
The room we have not built yet has all of their names on the wall.
Help us write the next ones.