The Easter Rabbit
Created: 07 April 2001

Birthdays are always strange for me. The kinds of reflections of the year gone by and the like that most people do on January 1 I tend to save up for April 10. Partially because that's my birthday. Partially because it's usually around the Easter holiday. Partially because it's five days before I have to mail my annual report to Uncle Sam. It's a busy time around my home.

When I was 12, on the other hand, times were different. Reagan was in office. The Mighty 690 was still playing Top-40 hits. Levi's 501 Jeans were available in size 72, at around $8 a pair. I could usually be found sitting in front of the spare TV in my mother's bedroom playing Atari 2600 games until my butt was sore.

I mention my 12th birthday because I asked for a very unique gift for my birthday that year: I wanted a rabbit. Now, the Feedle household of that era was already a veritable zoo: 2 dogs, 2 cats, an aquarium with about a dozen guppies (or some other small, unidentifiable tropical fish that cost 10¢ each at Montgomery Ward), a hamster, a tortoise.. and up until recently, a guinea pig. The guinea pig actually died of a heart attack.

I begged, I pleaded. I said that I understood that a rabbit would be a 10-year commitment. I said that I understood that I'd have to clean its hutch, play with it every day, the whole nine yards. See, this wasn't some childhood whim... I had actually done some research at the library, and had done some of the initial legwork towards the Boy Scouts' Rabbit Raising Merit Badge. I even knew what kind of rabbit I wanted: A lop-ear. Specifically, this chocolate lop over at the pet store. With a pedigree.

My mom fainted when she heard the $80 price tag.

But I was persistent. And so, my parents gave in. We brought the little brown lump of fur home, complete with the requisite cage and three week supply of Purina Bunny Chow. I named him "Pierre." (really original name, I know, for a Chocolate French Lop.)

Pierre was given free run of the house. The dogs, a Pomeranian and a Chihuahua, were more scared of it than anything. The cats eyed it with suspicion, but after a few days began to ignore it with the disdain most adult cats save for their human companions. "It eats.. vegetables?" I could almost hear them say.

Pierre was a great pet. He was extremely tame, intelligent, and humorous. He had a knack for knocking things off tables that didn't "please his sense of style." He would also come running to the doorbell with the barking dogs to greet visitors. We bought him a hutch, but he didn't stay in it much. My parents even grew fond of this big brown furball. There was always a lap open for him... always good food (real veggies, not just rabbit pellets), always the safety of indoors via a pet door (even though he actually dug his own warren in the yard and slept there during the day), and most importantly, always love. In time, even the dogs could be found curled up next to Pierre asleep on the couch.

Pierre died about 8 or 9 years later, dead of apparent heart failure. But unlike most Easter Bunnies, Pierre's story is a happy one: one of a rabbit that was loved his entire life.. one whose death came of a purely natural cause instead of being destroyed in an animal shelter.

Unfortunately, Pierre's life story is a rare one for Easter Bunnies. Many end up in municipal animal shelters after they've ceased to be bunnies and have become rabbits. Some are released into the wild to "fend for themselves", which usually means (at least here in the West) they'll become coyote or feral dog food. Most will die before their second birthday, a direct result of neglect.

Rabbits are great pets for responsible, mature people... perhaps even for 12-year-old pre-teens who go through the effort of understanding and anticipating the needs of their new pet. But they are not a toy. They are not suitable for young children (and their parents) who do not, first and foremost, understand that buying a bunny is making a life-long commitment to this creature to care for it properly, and to provide a loving home for it.

One of the great stories of Easter is the promise it carries from our Creator of rebirth after death. The message that our children should be getting from us, as their teachers, is that all life is sacred... and that life entrusted to us to care for is a responsibility that we should not carry lightly.

It's a lesson my parents were intelligent enough to make sure I learned.

In memory of a loving.. and a loved.. pet.

Comments

it is v wierd and not good at all sorry but i thought u needed 2 kno.

it is v wierd and not good at all sorry but i thought u needed 2 kno.

it is v wierd and not good at all sorry but i thought u needed 2 kno.

Post a comment

Name:


Email Address:


Enter this code:


URL:

Remember personal info?
YesNo
Comments:

---

the world needs more mayo © 1998-2007 C. Sullivan (random.2.feedle@spamgourmet.com) i like honey [Creative Commons License] [No-Spam Notice] [Legal Stuff] bunnies.shtml, Updated: Sunday, 07-Sep-2003 10:07:47 PDT .