The Inevitable Bunny Rabbit.

When I was a kid, a shockingly long time ago, I stumbled upon a cartoon on HBO called ‘Watership Down’. It was an intense, sometimes scary and violent, cartoon about a group of rabbits that leave their home due to an apocalyptic vision had by one of them. Disney this was not. I was kind of obsessed with it. I was a really into cartoons and had never seen anything with this kind of tone to it, and it was a really rich, fascinating story, complete with rabbit mythology. This being another era, I watched it as many times as I could while it was on HBO and then never saw it again.

Later on in life, I found the book, I don’t remember now whether or not I knew it was a book before, but I bought it and read it and enjoyed it.

While it is a story about anthropomorphized rabbits, it is not particularly cutesy, and contains a lot of real information about how wild rabbits live, and also constructs a mythology along with some rabbit language. ‘Watership Down’, which actually exists, was the new home the scrappy group of rabbits were trying to get to.

I have been carrying this tale with me most of my life.

 

Once upon a time(last Easter), my nephew happened upon a large, colorful bunny rabbit hopping through the woods. It was clear that it wasn’t the type of rabbit that should be hopping through the woods and he rescued it, christening it “Rocky” after his current favorite movie. A week later, much to everyone’s surprise and delight, “Rocky” gave birth to seven little bunnies, and was renamed “Adrian”.

While there are few things as adorable as 7 little bunnies, it was bound to become wildly impractical once they became normal-sized bunnies, so my sister had a problem on her hands. I contemplated taking one of the bunnies myself, but my enthusiasm was tempered by the probable cost of acquiring bunny stuff(which I had underestimated anyway). I decided that if a bunny really needed a home by the bunny-needs-a-home deadline, that I would take one, not being confident in the fates of unwanted bunnies.

Time passed, and the bunnies found homes, and I was surprisingly a little sad that I didn’t take a bunny myself. It seems that my bunny-related passiveness was just a trick I was playing on myself, and that I really did want a bunny after all. But it was all for the best, and I saved all that bunny money.

But then… in an unforeseeable scenario, one of the bunnies new owners was allergic to bunnies, and had discovered it the same week I was coming to visit. I found myself offered a bunny, complete with all the bunny stuff I was sweating!

In addition to hay, Picasso enjoys drywall, table legs, guitar cables, and occasionally things I want him to chew on.

 

There’s been certain instances in my life where I’ve been struck by the sequence of events that led up to them. One could go back infinitely, of course, but practically speaking, someone acquired multiple rabbits, raised them to adulthood, abandoned them in the woods when the female became pregnant, the female was discovered¬† alive and captured by my nephew just days before she was about to give birth, my bunny found a home with someone who was allergic to bunnies, and now he is in my apartment. My role in this mini-saga was to say “Yes, I’ll take the bunny.”

I have often thought that that the elusive “rules”¬† that guide particles on the quantum level apply to all levels of reality, that we are just fairly large particles bouncing around, with certain innate tendencies that would increase the likelihood of say, owning a bunny rabbit.