Yes, it’s true. Bunnies freak me out. Sure, I won’t deny that they’re cute and fluffy, and can be downright adorable when they’re hopping and scampering about (and I do love when things scamper). But, there’s also something…not quite right about them. I think they might be too cute, which is clearly a means for them to lull us into a false sense of security while they procreate, building an unstoppable army of fluffy, hopping conquerors.
Most people, when I tell them how I feel about bunnies, automatically think I’m riffing on one of the main character traits of Buffy the Vampire Slayer‘s Anya. But, truth be told, my issues with bunnies are much older than Anya (who didn’t appear until 1998). Part of it probably comes from seeing Night of the Lepus when I was a young lad. Trust me, a movie about giant killer bunnies stays with you.
Furthermore, when I was a kid, one of my neighbors had a pet bunny. Whenever they would go away on vacation, it would fall to me to tend to the little, twitchy-nosed bastard. And, let me tell you, that little sonuvabitch was a biter. What kind of fluffy, cute little animal bites and scratched the hands of a 15 year old who’s there to fill its food and water bowls and clear away its poop? An evil one, that’s what kind.