I saw an article earlier in the week that gave me pause. It took me back 25 years to a time when I was younger and dumber and would do just about anything to please the little girl in my life.
Titled, “Think twice before you buy that Easter bunny in the window,” the article grabbed my attention. “Been there, done that and I’ve got the memories to prove it,” I thought.
It started harmlessly enough on the Saturday morning before Easter. Amanda wanted a bunny for Easter. After some discussion, we (Jayne — the instigator — and I) decided it might be OK. We had already nixed the little chick idea a couple of times. So, off to Huntsville I went. I was by myself so the new pet would be a surprise.
At C.T. Garvin’s, I picked out the cutest little white bunny. Just a baby, the fur ball was reminiscent of a new fallen snow.
After that, I got talked into a cage — one big enough for the four-legged hopper to roam around in — a poop catcher, water bottle and plenty of feed. I remember thinking, “man, this is more food than this little rabbit will ever eat.”
Well, Amanda was delighted and surprised she had a new bunny to go with the pair of dogs that called our fenced in backyard home. She, appropriately, named the little one Sugar.
For a while, Sugar was cute. He was fun to play with and, when he wasn’t enjoying sitting in someone’s lap to be petted, he delighted in having the run of our large screened in back porch and, from time-to-time, the yard. Things were good, for a time.
Sugar began to grow. He ate like a 500-pound Sumo wrestler and pooped seemingly after every bite.
Cleaning up the poop catcher and the cage was a pain at best. The whole ordeal — and in retrospect that is what it turned out to be — was enough to turn one off on Cocoa Puffs.
As Sugar grew so did his attitude. He became like a bunny on steroids to the point he often scared the dogs and the playtime they once enjoyed was no more.
Yes, that rabbit made a short, low almost growling sound and sometimes a more high pitched one. The best way to describe the sounds that emanated from this now 18-pound devil of a rabbit was a bark or, maybe, a yelp.
Sugar had turned into the rabbit from hell. Gone were the days when we could sit on the porch and enjoy just letting him roam around. He loved to spray and spit. He would nip at your feet and legs. Don’t even think about petting him.
That’s when he would arch his back and you knew your fingers were in danger from those sharp little teeth.
Thankfully, we found Sugar lifeless one morning after enduring his antics for more than a year and one half. He had passed away — peacefully I hope — in his sleep.
For you parents considering purchasing that little long-eared cutie for Easter — forget it. If you see one, run the other way faster than that little bunny can hop.