The Four-minute Rabbit

Me at a recent visit to John Updike's childhood home, which is in the planning stages as future museum of the "Rabbit, Run" author's life and times.

Me at a recent visit to John Updike’s childhood home, which is in the planning stages as a future museum dedicated to the “Rabbit, Run” author’s life and times.

My family is a rare breed of city park-dwelling bunny rabbits. Our folks moved all 1,023 of us kits to a sprawling urban farm where we had acres of carrots, spring greens and kale to feed on. Our father taught us how to evade Wabbit Season and Mr. McGregor, while our mother made sure we knew our dandelions from our thistles. It was an idyllic childhood.

After completing my education at the Beatrix Potter Academy, I enrolled at the University of Lagomorpha where I majored in Medical Testing and minored Easter Basket Weaving, graduating Ochotonidae Cum Laude. Instead of settling down right away like all 721 of my sisters did, I decided to pursue a graduate degree. Like all good cottontails, I put myself through graduate school working as a Playboy Bunny at the Rarebit Den. There I met the famous milliner Mads Cloche. We dated for a while, but I soon discovered he was extremely unhinged with a self-destructive tea time addiction. I broke it off and focused on finishing my studies, finally completing my dissertation in Cutaneous Saltation.

I married a Jackrabbit I met while volunteering with Habitat for Hares Society in the mountains of Mexico, building new burrows for the Zacatuche. We moved into a sprawling nest near his parents in the southwest and, being the socially modern (ours was a mixed marriage) and socially aware rabbits we were, only had 35 kits. Ultimately, however, the difference in our backgrounds—me an American, city burrowing cottontail and he a European, country nesting hare— proved to be too much, and we divorced after all the kits left the nest.

Hopping off in search of myself, I found a job with Energizer Bunny, INC. as a project coordinator in their Marching Band Drum division, and then later as a counselor at the Roger & Jessica Rabbit Foundation working with street kits who had been abandoned by a pet store or human caretaker. Their sad stories touched me deeply. As I result, I joined the Anti-Christ Easter lobby in WA DC, marching in protests against The Easter Bunny Co. for their role in propagating the myth about the Easter Bunny, as well as Cadbury Crème Eggs for its continuing depiction each year of negative rabbit and chicken egg stereotypes. The Chicken Interest lobby joined our protest and provided dozens of raw eggs we used in a midnight egging raid on the Lutheran Eastertide headquarters. Unfortunately security cameras got a good visual of my friends Flopsy and Mopsy, and they landed in the Federal Bunny Trap.

I escaped and spent a few years as a lamb, evading the law, but eventually ending up back home, near the urban farm where I grew up. Out of options and trying to subsist on processed rabbit food that looked (and smelled, quite frankly) like pellets, I finally set my social advocacy pride behind me and put that “fall back” Easter Basket Weaving minor to work by opening my own commercial den. With a loan from my former employer, Energizer Bunny, INC., I was able to hire all the neighborhood kits to produce hundreds of baskets to sell to, ironically, The Lutheran Eastertide Co.

These days I spend my time avoiding the never-ending perils of Wabbit Season and Mr. McGregor, as well as hope my advocacy days won’t end up having me fricasseed by the law, but I can’t complain. I’m surrounded by 2,528,684 nieces, nephews and grandkits, and enjoy running a successful business. It’s very good to be back in salad country living the quiet life.

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