This Adams Morgan icon has a Mona Lisa smile, the coloration of a Siamese cat, and is always trembling—not because she’s scared, mind you, but because her metabolism is whirring away and keeping her at 3 pounds.

Hunny Bun the Netherland Dwarf rabbit has been spotted cruising around 18th Street NW for the past few years, though fans will now have to go looking for her in a new neighborhood: she has just moved to Truxton Circle.

When I meet Hunny Bun and her owner, Lee Rambo, at Tryst on a rainy Monday morning (establishments can allow animals on their patios), the rabbit is munching on an animal cracker and Rambo is talking to a man who has approached her to discuss the benefits of bunny-ownership. This happens a lot to Rambo, which is why she calls Hunny Bun a “community catalyst.”

“Strangers will just come up to her and want to pet her, it’s wonderful,” says Rambo. “Those who are lucky to catch a glimpse of her are just enchanted.” It’s true—all of the people who spot Hunny Bun as they walk by break into a grin.

Ellie Potter, a fellow rabbit-owner who lives in the Adams Morgan building that Rambo and Hunny Bun called home until October, says that the duo has achieved a level of local fame.

“They’re really well known around the neighborhood for obvious reasons, but they spread a lot of joy wherever they go,” says Potter. “That’s the big thing about Hunny Bun—she makes everybody happy and all she does is sit there, basically.”

Hunny Bun does stay quite still, though her little nose is always moving.

Rambo has been toting her around since shortly after she got her in July 2015. She found her by going on Craigslist and typing in “rabbit.” For $100, she acquired the creature she christened Hunny Bun.

“Ever since she was 6 months old, I’ve been carrying her around on my shoulder and I think she’s gotten used to it,” Rambo says. “Noises still spook her, but what’s instructive for me is that she gets scared and then it’s over.”

Until her bike was stolen, Rambo would take Hunny Bun in the basket like a figurehead at the prow of a ship. “The wind blows through her fur and she looks like a very forward-looking bunny,” she says.

Rambo, a 67-year-old who speaks with a giddy Southern drawl, arrived in D.C. 15 years ago. She grew up outside of Atlanta, where her family had dogs, a turtle, and a goose (no bunnies, though), and worked as a journalist before moving to Paris. In more recent years in D.C., she has been a tutor, English teacher, babysitter, and writer and editor for nonprofits.

She plotted the move to Truxton Circle because she bought a condo after falling into what she refers to as her “windfall.” An uncle passed away in April, leaving her, her siblings, and cousins with an inheritance. How did she react when she learned about it?

Rambo laughs, booming and melodic at the same time. “Well, Hunny Bun’s gonna get a bigger hut,” she says, patting the bunny and giggling. Then she goes quiet for a bit. After a long pause, she says, “It’s been transformative, it’s hard to talk about.”

Since April, Rambo hasn’t had to work 40-60 hour weeks. She’s spent languorous mornings getting breakfast at Tryst with Hunny Bun. She hopes to return to journalism, and has had time to work on her children’s book about Melangell, the Welsh saint and patron of rabbits and hares.

Rambo starts to tell me the story of Melangell, who fled from Ireland when her father insisted she marry. When she arrives in Wales, the rabbits and hares befriend her.

Rambo has just gotten to the climax of the tale, when Melangell turns down the Welsh prince’s marriage proposal with a “No, my life is here with the rabbits and the hares!”, which she presents with uproarious laughter, as if she’s hearing the story for the first time, when two women approach us.

“Is that your pet bunny?” The women begin stroking Hunny Bun and talking about their pets.

This is quite common, according to Potter. “It’s amazing how many people have funny rabbit and pet stories, and Lee really draws that out of people,” she says.

Rambo likes that aspect of being “the bunny lady,” as she says people have called her. It’s a stark difference to the invisibility she thinks befalls a lot of women her age.

“I think that Hunny Bun has enabled me to be kind of a grandmother to the community,” says Rambo, who has never married and has no human children. “She’s brought a kind of wild softness to my life and so I like the fact that I’m the one carrying Hunny Bun down the streets. I don’t know how else to put it without becoming lyrical.”

A few times, people have invaded her space to take photos of the bunny without her permission. But she says that’s rare.

More commonly, people associate Hunny Bun with brightening their mood, says Lily Kardell, the assistant manager at Adams Morgan ACE Hardware. “I see a lot of people say they’re having a bad day, and then when they see Hunny Bun it just cheers them up,” she says. “Hunny Bun is in that category as a well-known pet in the neighborhood. I’m kind of sad they’re moving, but I think it’s going to be an exciting new adventure for Hunny Bun.”

Potter doesn’t have plans to bring her own bunny, Hank, beyond her apartment to fill the void. “Hank just pales in comparison to Hunny Bun. He’s just not as friendly,” she says. “Hunny Bun has been the star of Adams Morgan.”

Rambo says that, so far, Hunny Bun has been adapting well to their new life in Truxton Circle. They’ve already gotten permission from neighborhood shops to let Hunny Bun go in with Rambo.

There are no plans to expand the partnership. “One of the first things I thought of when I knew I was going to move is, ‘Maybe I’ll get some more bunnies,’’” says Rambo. “But a very wise woman said to me, ‘Lee, I think you may have hit the jackpot with Hunny Bun and you may be disappointed with subsequent bunnies.’ So I decided I would pour all of my love and kindness into Hunny Bun.”