Bunny

I met Stan and Mr Snuffles yesterday afternoon. Stan is known as the “rabbit guy” around Redfern. You could approach him with any question about rabbits. Rescue rabbits; the inner workings of the Australian Rabbit Sanctuary Facebook group; Pigmy rabbits; Flemish Giant rabbits that grow to be larger than the size of a cat and love to flop around and be held; how their ears perk up/down/pinned back/or “helicopter” (one up one down) to communicate something; Marfusha, the first Soviet rabbit to go to space in a little spacesuit—who survived—and ended up completing a second mission in 1960; how you’ve gotta leave two separate piles of food for them – one for them to nibble on and one for them to shit on.

Rabbits are passive and gentle creatures. Us humans are often buying rabbits as gifts during Easter. Many end up letting them go shortly after they deem a bunny as “high maintenance”. My heart is aching for the bunnies of the world tonight. People have this idea of what they are supposed to be because they are cute and fluffy and soft and nice to hold. Once they come into “possession” of a bunny, they are often jarred by how bunnies don’t like the way you say “no” to them. You won’t get far by yelling commands at a bunny or trying to discipline them as if they’re a dog. Bunnies are special because you have to be so patient with them. A bunny will often look you dead in the eye as they are chewing through your cords. They’re fucking badass because they know that you know— and if your tone or attitude isn’t correct— you can forget about having an unabridged charging cable.

Stan is ex-military; retired for over 20 years now. He speaks about how Mr Snuffles teaches him things. How to look at the world from curious eyes. How to be gentle. How to see things and people as they are. He loves that he can put Mr Snuffles in his little trolley and take him around outside. Even if people don’t ask about Mr Snuffles, they often spot Mr Snuffles and get this curious glint in their eyes. Stan says that makes him happy, I could see it in his eyes it really does.

Stan tells me about how he was having dinner up at Westfields the other night—up on the balcony that overlooks where we are sitting now. There was a little girl, about 4 years old. She spotted the mound of fur and put her face up against the glass separating the food court and the balcony. Stan puts down his fork and holds Mr Snuffles up to the window. She runs off almost immediately. Seconds later, reappearing with dad in hand. Dad feels a bit awkward but he fulfils her request.

Excuse me sir, sorry to bother you during your meal… but would my daughter be able to pat your rabbit?

The small girl handled the rabbit with excellent poise, knowing how gentle to be. Mr Snuffles twitched his nose happily in response. Stan asks her if she’s ever had a rabbit before, by the way she was handling Mr Snuffles like a professional. 

No, but I had one before I was alive.

This girl and her bunny are going to save the world one day.

Stan & Mr Snuffles