Yesterday I learned that squirrels are an increasingly big problem in Park Slope apartment buildings. My story, gleaned from Park Slope Parents, really hit home with a lot of apartment dwellers who wrote to say that they have squirrels in their window boxes, squirrels on their ledges, and in some cases, squirrels in their furniture.

The only rodent we have on our couch from time to time is our beloved rabbit, Opal. Actually her full name is Opal Abu Opalina Crawford; a compromise between all the names my kids were fighting over.

White with a few black streaks, Opal is the perfect apartment dweller’s rabbit: she lives in a cage and enjoys brief walks around the living room. But she tires of them quickly and jumps back into her cage from the leather couch.

My son and I bought Opal on a whim over two years ago. We went to the two pet shops in the neighborhood (the one on 9th Street and the Petland on Fifth Avenue between 12th and 13th Streets) to "explore" the idea of getting a guinea pig, a hamster, or maybe some fish.

And then we saw the rabbits at Petland and we were hooked. My son gravitated toward Opal and held her in his arms. It was the one and only time that Opal seemed to enjoy being held in someone’s arms.  And my son looked so cute with Opal – "please mom, pleeeeeeze, mom," he said over and over. Next thing I knew we were  buying a cage, food, bedding, treats, toys, and a white rabbit.

When I got home, I surfed the Internet for information about the care and feeding of rabbits. And what I found again and again were warnings about rabbits NOT being the  best pets for children because they don’t really like to be held (and their bones are fragile). There were also warnings against keeping rabbits in apartments where there are a lot of wires because rabbits have a tendency to chew on electrical cords and that can result in: ELECTROCUTION.

Yeesh. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that I had just made an ENORMOUS mistake. With all the computers, printers, scanners, electronic equipment, and electric guitars this apartment can be a jungle of electrical wires.

But my son and daughter were already in love with Opal,

I, on the other hand, had worries up the wazoo. But those passed as we got used to having Opal around, and adjusted to life with rabbit.

Opal seems to have especially warm feelings for my husband (and visa versa). When he walks into living room she jumps up and down like a small puppy.

When we go away on vacation, our beloved caregiver boards Opal in her Coney Island apartment because her grandchildren love to play with her. Opal usuallly puts on weight on those visits: the sea air must be good for her appetite.

Sometimes I worry that Opal is depressed, that she is sick of her life in the cage in our living room. What kind of life is this for a rabbit? She spends most of her time drinking water, eating, and jumping from one side of the cage to the other. If she could talk, what would she say?

I’d love to know what she thinks of us and our not always tranquil life on Third Street.