Every Easter I try (with dad’s help) to let as many people as I can know about the sad stories of “Easter bunnies.” I’m entitled to speak on this because I was an Easter bunny myself.
Long story short, I was bought for some kids for Easter, and they didn’t really know how to take care of me, so they were very rough to me and eventually left me outside when they got bored with me. I don’t think they wanted me anymore.
Luckily, my mom saw them and came and picked me up and took me inside and made arrangements for me to stay with her & dad from now on. And I am very much grateful for what she did.
But the fact is, there are lots of other bunnies out there right now who are being given as “gifts” for Easter, to people who don’t know how to care for them, or to people who won’t care for them once the novelty wears off (though how that could happen with a rabbit still baffles me).
So, as I always do on Easter, I just want to remind everyone that a rabbit is not a toy, not a gift, but a real live animal, the same as any other pet – if not more so, because we’re not like cats and dogs who are predators and can take care of themselves to a certain extent – we’re rabbits, a prey species, and we can be fragile at times, so we depend on our human mums & dads to look after us. We also live quite a long time (depending on the breed and whether we’ve been de-sexed) – figure about 10 years, give or take. We don’t do well in small cages (despite lots of pictures and pet store advertising to the contrary) and we don’t just eat carrots (cartoons aside – although carrots are a nice side dish).
Hopefully this message reaches someone and makes a difference somewhere. Now if you all don’t mind, I’m going to take the rest of the day off and go lie in a sunbeam and reflect on how lucky Betsy and I are to have such a nice home. And to all the buns out there – may you all find homes as nice yourselves.
Good luck, and hoppy Easter!