I gently picked up the baby bunny and cuddled it against my chest. It was the cutest thing I had ever seen. It wiggled its nose at me. I decided it was a girl. She was mostly white, with a large brown patch on her back. She had brown eyes.
She was the best Easter surprise ever. I kissed her between the ears. She was soooo soft.
Just then Andrew burst into my room. “Karen! Karen!” he cried.
“Indoor voice, Andrew,” I reminded him. (I love saying it to someone else.)
“Karen! Karen!” he whispered loudly. He held up a wiggling furry bunny. “Look what the Easter Bunny left me! A real live bunny of my own!”
I knew that Granny had really left it for him, but I did not say so. Andrew is just a little kid. I would not spoil the secret.
“Me too,” I said, showing him my bunny. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
“Not as beautiful as mine,” Andrew said happily. He placed his bunny gently on my bed. I put mine down next to it. They sniffed each other’s noses. (That is how bunnies say hello. It is like a bunny kiss.) Andrew’s rabbit was mostly white, too, but it had small black spots on its ears.
“He is a boy,” Andrew said. “I am going to call him Spot. See his ears?”
“Yes,” I said. “But Spot is not a very fancy name. I am going to call mine Princess Cleopatra. Princess for short. You could call yours Prince.”
“No,” said Andrew. “His name is Spot. Right, Spot?” Andrew stroked the bunny’s ears.
Spot wiggled his nose.
“Happy Easter!” Granny said from my doorway. She was wearing her pink fluffy bathrobe. She looked very happy.
“Happy Easter, Granny,” I said. “Thank you so mu — ”
“Granny!” Andrew interrupted me. “Look what the Easter Bunny brought me! A real rabbit of my very own!”
I shut my mouth. I had almost given the secret away. “Yes, me too, Granny,” I said. “Look what the Easter Bunny brought me!” I held up Princess Cleopatra so Granny could see.
“Look!” said Andrew. “His name is Spot.”
“Spot is a fine name,” Granny said. “And what have you named yours, Karen?”
“Princess Cleopatra,” I said grandly. “Princess for short.”
“That’s a beautiful name,” said Granny. “Do you two like your bunnies?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” said Andrew.
“Yes, yes, yes!” I said.
“Oh, my goodness,” said Mommy. She and Seth stood in my doorway. They were wearing their robes, too. We were having a bathrobe party.
“What’s all this?” asked Seth.
“Bunnies!” said Andrew happily.
I looked at Mommy and Seth. They did not look happy. Uh-oh.
The No-More-Pets Rule
“I am very sorry,” said Granny. “I did not know.”
We had come back from church. I had changed out of my beautiful yellow Easter dress into jeans and a pink bunny sweatshirt. When I walked into the kitchen, Granny was apologizing.
“What did you not know?” I asked.
“I did not know that your family had a no-more-pets rule,” explained Granny. “I am the one who gave you your Easter bunnies.”
“You are?” I said. I acted surprised.
“Yes. But I am afraid I have made a problem for your mother and Seth,” said Granny.
Mommy was putting herbs and spices on the roast we were going to have for our special Easter dinner. Seth was cutting up potatoes. Granny was sitting at our kitchen table, polishing silver. It was very cozy. Except for the no-more-pets rule.
“I am not sure what to do,” said Mommy. “Not long ago, we tried taking care of a new puppy. It was too difficult for us. We already have a cat, a dog, a rat, and a hermit crab. We made the no-more-pets rule so that everyone would understand that we already have enough pets.”
I could tell Granny felt bad about breaking our rule.
“It is not Granny’s fault,” I said. “She did not know about our rule.”
“I understand,” said Mommy. She smiled at me. Then she smiled at Granny. “Granny just wanted to do something extra-special for you and Andrew.”
“Something special for me?” said Andrew, coming into the kitchen.
“Granny gave us our Easter bunnies,” I told Andrew. (He was about to find out anyway.)
“Oh. Hmm. Well, thank you, Granny!” said Andrew. “Spot is my best friend already. He is so smart and — ”
“Andrew,” Seth said. “Remember our no-more-pets rule?”
Andrew frowned. He looked at Mommy, then at Seth, then at Granny, then at me. “It does not count for Easter bunnies, does it?” he asked.
Mommy sighed. “We are not sure yet.”
When I heard that, I felt hopeful. Maybe Mommy and Seth would let us keep the bunnies.
“Little bunnies are not like kittens or puppies,” I said. “Bunnies are much smaller. They are quieter. They do not meow or bark.”
“Bunnies do not need to go for walks,” said Andrew. “They do not chase the mailman.” (Midgie does not like our mail carrier.)
“They live in cages, like Emily Junior,” I said. “In the summer, they can even live outside in their cages.”
Mommy and Seth looked at each other.
“May I keep Spot?” asked Andrew in a small voice. “Please?”
“Well,” said Mommy, “I guess it is okay with me if it is okay with Seth.”
“It is okay with me if it is okay with your mother,” said Seth.
“Yea!” Andrew and I cried, jumping up and down. But I quickly remembered to use my indoor voice. I wanted to be on my best behavior.
Seth held up one finger. “But please understand that this is only on a trial basis. That means that we will try it for a short while, say a week or two. If the bunnies are not a problem, we will discuss keeping them permanently. If they are a problem … then we will have to discuss finding another home for them.”
“Okay,” said Andrew. “I will take extra good care of Spot. You will not even know he is in the house.”
“That would be nice,” said Mommy.
“Maybe I can build them a rabbit hutch at the shop,” said Seth. (Seth makes beautiful furniture out of wood.) “In the meantime, you two need to find some sort of cage to keep them in. They are not housebroken.”
“Okey-dokey!” I said, running out of the kitchen. “I will look right now!”
“Me too,” said Andrew, running after me. “Yea!”
Bunny Trouble
When I woke up on Monday morning, I knew right away it would be a gigundoly wonderful day. I did not have to go to school. (It was the last day of spring vacation.) It was sunny outside, and a little warmer. Spring was on its way!
“Mommy, may I invite Hannie and Nancy over to see Princess Cleopatra?” I asked at breakfast.
“Yes,” said Mommy. “But remember not to play with the bunnies too much. Small animals need lots of resting time, when they can be alone.”
“Okay,” I said. The night before, Andrew and I had played with Princess and Spot for hours. They had hopped all over the place, and wiggled their noses and ears. We had held bunny races and bunny jumping contests and we had dressed them in little outfits. Finally Mommy and Seth had made us leave them alone. I was sure a dog or a cat could never be as much fun as my new bunny.
“I am looking forward to seeing Hannie and Nancy again,” said Granny.
“They will be glad to see you too,” I said. “I will call them right now.”
* * *
“Oh, she is sooo, sooo, sooo cute,” said Hannie softly.
Nancy had come right over when I called her, since she lives next door. Hannie’s mother had driven her. I had waited until the Three Musketeers were together before I brought out Princess Cleopatra.
“Isn’t she?” I said proudly. For the time being, Princess was staying in Mommy’s large wicker laundry basket. It was hard for her to jump out of it. I had put a towel on the bottom to make it comfortable.
> “Feel her ears,” said Nancy. “They are like white velvet.”
“She is very smart too,” I said. I could not help bragging a little bit. “She knows how to run races and how to play hide-and-seek and how to get into very little places.”
“Look at her tiny nose,” said Hannie. She reached her hand in the basket and gently stroked Princess’s back. “She is just perfect, Karen.”
“I think so, too,” I said.
“Oh!” said Nancy. “Look what Princess did.”
I checked the towel at the bottom of the basket. Princess had had an accident.
“Are you going to housebreak her?” asked Hannie.
“I do not know if bunnies can be housebroken,” I said, cleaning up. “I bet they can. Later today Mommy is going to take Andrew and me to the library to get a book on how to care for our rabbits. I bet the book will tell us.” I had had to do a lot of cleaning up since Sunday.
When I was done, we took some books off of my bookshelves and made little ramps for Princess to hop on and leap off of. We made tunnels and bridges out of blocks. We put her in one of my Rollerblade boots and pushed her around my room. She loved it. She was an adventurous rabbit.
Finally I decided that Princess had had enough. She looked a little tired.
“I better put her back in her basket,” I said. “She is still very small, and she needs to rest.” I let Nancy lift her and put her into the laundry basket.
“I wish I could have a bunny,” said Hannie. “I would get a tan bunny and name her Honey. Honey the bunny.”
Hannie’s family already has Myrtle the turtle, Noodle the poodle, and Pat the cat.
“That would be fun,” I said. “Then you could bring Honey over here to play with Princess.”
“Hey,” Nancy said, looking down. “My shirt is wet.”
“Oops,” I said.
“What is it?” asked Nancy.
“Um, I think maybe Princess had a little accident on you,” I said. “Take off your shirt so we can wash it. You can wear one of mine.”
“Eww! Eww!” Nancy shrieked. “Gross!” Quickly she took off her shirt and tossed it on the floor.
Hannie started giggling, her hand over her mouth.
I took out one of my favorite sweatshirts and handed it to Nancy. “I am really sorry,” I said. I picked up Nancy’s shirt and put it in my dirty clothes basket. “Mommy will wash it, and then I will give it back to you all nice and clean. Okay?”
“Okay,” Nancy grumbled, putting on my sweatshirt.
“She did that to me yesterday,” I said. “It is just because she is little. She doesn’t know better.”
I looked in the other basket. Princess was curled up, sound asleep.
“I bet soon she will not do it at all anymore,” I said.
* * *
But Princess did. She went to the bathroom everywhere and anywhere, whenever she felt like it. I spent a lot of time cleaning up pellets and puddles.
That afternoon Andrew and I found a book at the library called Caring for Your Domestic Rabbit.
At home we sat together on my bed to read it, while the bunnies played on my floor.
“It says here that we can train the bunnies to use a litter box, like a cat,” I read. “But it will take a lot of work to teach them. It could take months.”
“Months?” said Andrew. “Gosh.”
I looked at the bunnies. They had both had accidents. We cleaned up the mess.
Then we sat on my bed again and read more about bunnies. Did you know that baby bunnies are called kittens, just like baby cats? I mean, they are called bunnies, also, but really little bunnies are called kittens.
We read about what to feed them. (Rabbit chow, carrots, lettuce, other fresh vegetables, grass in the summer.)
We read about how to make a nice hutch. We showed Seth the pictures, and he thought he could make one. We read about how to keep their cages clean. Hmm. I was already doing a lot of that.
“Uh-oh,” said Andrew. “You better stop Princess.”
I looked up and saw Princess Cleopatra sitting on the floor. She was chewing on the leg of my desk! I leaped off the bed.
“Oh, Princess!” I cried. She had gnawed a big chunk out of the desk leg. Little wood shavings littered the floor. Princess chewed happily.
“Seth is not going to be happy about that,” said Andrew softly.
I nodded. Seth had made me that desk for my sixth birthday. It was beautiful, and it was exactly the right size for me. It had taken him a very long time to make it, and I loved it. Now one of the legs was ruined.
“Princess,” I said sternly. “Bad. It is very bad to chew on furniture. Now my desk is spoiled. Seth will be angry. I am angry too. You better go sit in your basket and have a time-out.”
I carried Princess to her basket and put her down on her towel. I did not treat her roughly or spank her or make her cry. I know you cannot ever be mean to animals, no matter what. She was just a little bunny. She did not know that what she had done was wrong. But it was.
“Phooey,” I said, looking at my poor desk leg. “Rats. Boo and bullfrogs. Gosh darn it.” I said all the upset words I knew. Then I said them all again.
“The book said that rabbits like to chew on hard things,” said Andrew from my bed. “Remember? It helps keep their teeth healthy. Otherwise their teeth grow too long.”
“Well, I guess Princess has very healthy teeth now,” I said grumpily. Andrew giggled. But we both knew it was not funny. Our bunnies were a lot of fun, but they were not all fun.
Fluffy Andrew
Well, Seth was pretty upset about my desk. Andrew and I told him about it on Monday night after dinner. I felt gigundoly awful. I showed Seth how very sad I was. I blinked my eyes and made my mouth turn down at the corners.
“Hmm,” Seth said, feeling the wood. “I might be able to repair this. But it will never be the same. Remember when we talked about the bunnies being trouble?”
I nodded sadly.
“This is one of the things I meant,” Seth said. “From now on, you must be more careful about what Princess chews on. If I find that she has chewed on other furniture, I will be very upset. Do you understand?”
I nodded sadly again.
“In the meantime, I will finish making the bunnies’ hutch as fast as I can. Maybe if they are in a real pen, they will not be so much trouble,” said Seth.
“Thank you,” I said.
* * *
When I got home from school on Tuesday, Andrew was on his hands and knees under the kitchen table.
“Hi, Karen,” said Mommy. “Would you like crackers and cheese, or an apple with peanut butter for your snack?”
I thought for a moment. “Crackers and cheese, please. Andrew, what are you doing?”
My little brother was crawling between the legs of the kitchen table. He looked up at me. “Meow,” he said. He pawed at my leg with one hand.
“Mommy, there is something wrong with Andrew,” I said. I hid my smile behind my hand. “He has forgotten he’s a boy.”
Andrew meowed again, then jumped up and sat in his chair. Mommy put some crackers and cheese between us.
“Guess what?” said Andrew, putting a whole cracker in his mouth.
“Do not talk while you eat,” I reminded him.
He nodded and chewed and swallowed with a big gulp. “Today Miss Jewel told us that our class is going to put on a play,” he said. “A play about families. I am going to be a cat, because a pet can be part of a family.”
“Oh, Andrew, that is very exciting,” I told him. “I love plays. It is so much fun to perform in front of an audience. And I know you will be a very good cat.” It is my job as a big sister to encourage Andrew.
Andrew nodded. “My name is Fluffy. I have the script right here.” He pulled out some pages stapled together. Fluffy’s lines were highlighted with a yellow marker.
“May I read the script?” I asked. “You know, I have been in many plays myself. I could give you lots o
f good advice. You might say plays are my specialty.”
“Okay,” said Andrew. “And I have a list here of what I need for my costume. We have to make our own costumes.”
“Great!” I said. “I am a costume expert. You have come to the right place, Andrew. With my help, you will be the best one in the play. And you will have the best costume.”
“I do not need to be the best,” said Andrew. “I just want to be a good Fluffy. I want Miss Jewel to be proud of me.”
“Oh, she will be,” I promised my brother. “When I get through with you, Miss Jewel will be totally amazed.”
Bunnies Gone Bad
On Wednesday afternoon I helped Andrew with his script. I know all about scripts. Once I made my own movie for Grandad, and I wrote the script for it (with some help). Also, when I was Pizza Queen for a month, I made a commercial. It had a script. Plus, I have been in quite a few plays. All of them had scripts.
Princess and Spot played on my floor while we worked. I kept one eye on them so they would not chew on any furniture.
“Now, Andrew,” I said. “It is important that you know your lines by heart.”
“I know that,” said Andrew.
“You have to know when to say them, too,” I said.
“I know that,” said Andrew.
So far Andrew did not seem to appreciate my experience.
“I will quiz you,” I said. “I will say the line right before yours, and then you say your line. Okay?”
“Okay,” Andrew said.
This is what part of the script looked like:
Mother: Peter, did you feed Fluffy yet?
Peter: Not yet, Mommy.
Mother: Animals cannot feed themselves. It is our job to take care of them. Please feed Fluffy now.
Peter: Okay, Mommy.
Fluffy: Meow.
I pretended to be Peter. I said, “Okay, Mommy.” Then I looked over at Andrew and raised my eyebrows.
“Meow,” said Andrew.
“Very good,” I said. “Now, think about being a cat. You are trying to tell Peter that you are hungry. Meow again, and this time try to sound really hungry.” (I am a very good director.)