I was four years old when I met Honey. She was calm and gentle and that was enough to leave a mark, even if I didn't know it yet. It would be 26 years before another rabbit came into my life.

Henry came when I was 30. Smart, patient, adventurous in the quietest way. When I lost him I learned that you can still love after loss. That even the smallest hearts carry the biggest souls.

And between Henry and now, Snoopy. Playful, curious, silly in the way only a rabbit can be silly. He was chronically ill for most of the time I had him, and what he taught me was that a sick animal can still have the biggest personality in the room. That limitations don't cancel joy.

Now I have three. Charlie Brown, Lucy, and Woodstock. The Peanuts Gang. They are loud and opinionated and entirely in charge of the household, and they are the reason this business has a soul.

I started volunteering with rescues in San Diego and Orange County because people who actually understood rabbits needed to be the ones showing up. What I found was that every rabbit owner does things differently, and none of them are wrong for it. What matters is showing up without judgment and figuring out what that particular animal needs in that particular home.

What I know now is that rabbits are sensitive in ways most people underestimate. They need us to be intentional. To pay attention. To try to understand them instead of just managing them.

When a rabbit that came in scared finally trusts you, there is no other word for it but peace.

Lux Bunny exists because I wanted to give every rabbit one-on-one attention, without outside noise or quotas or the pressure of a salon. Their space. Their pace. Their authentic selves.