| When the Hollands, our neighbors across the street at the old house, got Dutch Dwarf rabbits to breed, they promised Kari and I that we'd get some. Daisy and Floppy had six bunnies, and Kari and I were over to play with them constantly until they were able to leave their mother. I chose a very fat ball of a rabbit, one who had a twin whom we nicknamed Fat'n'Sleepy, and Kari chose a silky smooth one that was a little smaller. I named mine Rosie and she named hers Bitty Bunny. The Hollands sold the others to a pet shop. We thought our rabbits were both girls and thus would get along, but it turned out that they were both boys and not only were at each other's throats, but Rosie's name no longer fit. So I renamed him Roosivelt and nicknamed him Rosie. He and Bitty lived in little wire cages until we moved out here--in order to do so, they survived a harrowing trip in the back of the truck--and then dad built a hutch for them. Eventually, Bitty ran away and Rosie got the hutch to himself. The novelty of having a rabbit didn't last too terribly long, especially when it was absolutely impossible to get him out and pet him, and there's no way to play with a rabbit. He did come in pretty handy on Easter, though, and made a big hit with the younger kids when they came over and we'd pick stuff for him to eat. He particuarly liked dandelions and alfalfa. I actually can't even remember when he died, but it was just of old age and nothing sinister. |
| 1996-2003
Rosie slipped away one day I never said good-bye I heard the news without a thought Without a grieving sigh It�s a sad, cold thought to sit right here� I never wondered why. |