Bunny Dance

I bought a bunny for Christmas.

As decisions go, this has been one of my worst. Ever.

I love to spin. No, not the kind on a bicycle. I spin yarn with a lovely old treadle spinning wheel. It is stress-relief, almost exercise, and good therapy.

When I was on my honeymoon, 25 years ago, I met my first fiber rabbit and fell instantly in love. First I had to learn to spin, then I dreamed of having this little bunny in my life, an animal that I could bond with, a pet that would also become a fashion accessory.

I wanted to name her socks, because she really is a trainer bunny — only has a little bit of fur that is suitable for spinning. I’ve heard horror stories of people who start with a full angora, so I started with a lion head.

My daughter over-ruled me and the rabbit is named Black Beauty.

I mean — how cute is that?

So after 25 years, I had my rabbit. Except that I didn’t know a thing about how to care for a rabbit. I knew I would need to brush her daily. I anticipated long cuddles, lots of petting, fun amusement.

What I didn’t anticipate was what a complete and utter terror she is.

Really.

She chases the cats.

She bites.

And worse, she eats hay. Now why is that a problem? Because I’m allergic to hay.

Still, she’s cute and she has the silkiest fur.

If anyone has any bunny wisdom, I’m all ears!