Meet the Bunny

Yesterday marked the celebration of Chinese New Years, and with that we have officially entered the year of the rabbit. Early this morning I found to myself thinking, what more fitting time to introduce our smallest family member. Meet our bunny...

Now, I have to tell you, that when my only son told me that he wanted to get a pet rabbit, I said, "No!" No way, no how, are we going to have a bunny in our already crowded house!

And I backed up this edict with a perfectly good list of valid reasons why it was not a good idea. Figuring principally amongst them, was my feeling that it was just plain cruel to make such a creature spend its entire life in a small cage. After all, bunnies are a hopping, jumping and running sort of animal.

One of his baby bunny pictures

The problem was that my son, who inherited much of my temperament and personality, has inside information on just how to get around me and any objections I might have.

Part one of his bunny acquisition strategy, involved a bout of selective amnesia! He patiently waited for an appropriate period of time to pass, before laying claim to an entirely different memory of our bunny discussion. The conversation, which I clearly recall ending with the firm and fixed determination "no bunny", he recalls ending with a much less negative resolution "no bunny, unless that bunny has a really big cage".

The second phase of my son's clever strategy was easily executed.

Don't ask Mum about having a rabbit a second time, buy the bunny and simply arrive home with him one day completely unannounced. Present the cutest face imaginable and wait for Mum's firm resolve to melt away into mush. My son knows all to well that I have a weakness for anything cute and furry.

And I ask you, wouldn't you have difficulty saying no to this cute, furry face with a big human face pouting right behind it?

And what, might you wonder, was my son's answer to the life in a small cage dilemma? He built a gigantic, do-it-yourself, multi-platform, three story high, bunny penthouse suite.

He met the last of my limp objections with slick phrases like, "Don't worry Mum. We'll clean his cage every few days". Not that I bought that one for even a second!

Honey is much loved by my son and his girlfriend Hanna. Here Honey gives Hanna a kiss on the nose.

A year or so has past. Who now fusses the most over that darn bunny? Me of course! Standing in the vegetable section of the super market, I often find myself inspecting the display of celery to determine which bunch has best assortment of fresh, young leaves at its core, because I know those young shoots are Honey's favorite treat.

When I climb the stairs, Honey usually sees me coming, from his comfortable perch near the doorway of my son's room. He dances a little bunny gig of pleasure, because he knows, soft-hearted person that I am, I will stop by his cage to give him a fruit drop or yogurt bunny treat.

Now, I do have a minor degree of revenge in all this. Bunnies are nocturnal animals. Honey doses during the day and then cavorts around his cage at night, jumping from one level to the next. This noise make it hard for my son to get a good night's sleep.

When he gets too rambunctious though, poor Honey gets evicted from the bedroom and banished to a small cage in the spare room.

Honey in Hanna's arms.

It is in this small cage that I often find him early in the morning. I feel so sorry for him, that of course I have to take a moment to console him with a cuddle. I cradle him in my arms and stroke his long velvet ears. He relaxes and his head drops back. One eye closes, while the other stays partly open, watching me, just in case. Then slowly, he gets warm and comfortable there in the crook of my arm. His nose, which always twitches as he sniffs the air, wiggles less frequently. Then both his eyes shut, as he drifts off into sweet bunny dreams....

Have a great weekend everyone!