My parents always warned me not to get too attached to the rabbits. 'They never last long', they always said but never told me why. Nobody else in my class had rabbits and were of the same mindset that they were wicked little creatures, farmer's bane and impossibly hard to be rid of.
I couldn't help but adore their soft little faces - those bulging eyes that couldn't possibly be full of malice. Their bones were barely able to support their bodies, I truly failed to see how they could possibly do even an ounce of the things they were allegedly capable of.
Then they started growing up. It took me a while to realise that the sticky texture to their fur wasn't grease and couldn't be washed off - they were getting ready to build their cocoons and they would emerge on the cusp of adulthood.
My dad said we'd need to cull them before they hatched or we'd have to release them into the wild. They can't be kept as pets when they're full grown, they get too good at unlocking cages and feeding themselves on whatever meat is closest.
I swore that I'd trained them to only eat when I sounded a small bell and swore it enough that my parents caved and let the rabbits hatch so I could prove it. Five hours was all they promised me, five hours to prove that we'd be safe and in five minutes I proved them wrong.
It doesn't matter though, I got to keep my rabbits.
I couldn't help but adore their soft little faces - those bulging eyes that couldn't possibly be full of malice. Their bones were barely able to support their bodies, I truly failed to see how they could possibly do even an ounce of the things they were allegedly capable of.
Then they started growing up. It took me a while to realise that the sticky texture to their fur wasn't grease and couldn't be washed off - they were getting ready to build their cocoons and they would emerge on the cusp of adulthood.
My dad said we'd need to cull them before they hatched or we'd have to release them into the wild. They can't be kept as pets when they're full grown, they get too good at unlocking cages and feeding themselves on whatever meat is closest.
I swore that I'd trained them to only eat when I sounded a small bell and swore it enough that my parents caved and let the rabbits hatch so I could prove it. Five hours was all they promised me, five hours to prove that we'd be safe and in five minutes I proved them wrong.
It doesn't matter though, I got to keep my rabbits.
No comments:
Post a Comment