Growing (Exponentially)

For years we had a couple of bunnies in a cute little three-bay hutch.

Madeleine painted the interior walls with sunny pictures.

.

We built the bunnies a little grassy run for outdoor play.

.

They came inside to hop around and explore the underneath of armoires and sofas.

.

Sadly, our original bunny family went to bunny heaven. The story went like this: Boy and girl were only supposed to meet under supervised circumstances. However, they felt strongly about being ready for alone time.

.

They subsequently and predictably had two litters. Perhaps not so predictably, ill-fated mama bunny ate them. Her babies.

.

Yuck.

.

It may be part of nature's plan, but I couldn't look at her anymore. So mama bunny went to live with some farm friends who (unbenownst to us but maybe irrelevantly) had different ideas about bunny keeping than did we ... Mama bunny may now be hopping around the briars but we'll never know.

.

We kept the not-so-proud papa. He was a flop-eared sweetie. We decided boy bunnies are universally nicer than girl bunnies (sorry for the hare chauvinism; we are not scientifically sure about it but it's a working theory). So he lived for years as a lone ranger, the only rabbit on the farm but certainly not alone. He frequented the girls' dresser drawers. He was litter box trained. But nevertheless he died of bunny old age last winter.

.

We got ONE bunny for Grace's birthday this spring. He came home to roost last month after much careful consideration. We would have only one flop-eared sweet little rabbit and he would be loved and cuddled and never to have a girlfriend. Sorry: Been there, done that, added to the small pet cemetery.

.

.

.

Some other farm friends were earlier in their own personal bunnykeeping timeline and ended up with TWENTY-TWO baby bunnies this spring. TWENTY-TWO.

.

Somehow a few of them ended up here. I think it's true what they say about rabbits.