Disapproving Rabbits is the latest blog to go into my RSS feed.

Rhubarb would have made a great disapproving rabbit. She was the red rex I got when I was seven and she lived until I was around twelve or thirteen. She was an awesome bunny.

At one point, I had six rabbits – Rhubarb (the mom), Caramel (the dad), Red Pepper, Cinnamon, another one whose name I’ve forgotten because I sold her and Cinnamon once they were weaned, and Wilbur.

Wilbur was the runt of the litter, and turned out to be a girl. But she was a great pet and we had a wonderful time. Well, I did anyway. It’s hard to tell when a rabbit’s having a good time.

I went for years without bunnies, then bought Joey, a champagne mini-rex. (He was originally named “Little One” after a rabbit my cousin owned, which I adored. Then he turned out to be a “he” and that was done with.) He was incredibly disapproving. He was a pet shop bunny and a juvenile delinquent. We kept him in the house, where (when he was out) he’d spent lots of time stalking and running off with paper and playing cards, and chewing on furniture. Trees offended him.

I’d love to own more, but a) JessieDog is smaller than those rabbits were and b) I’m horribly allergic to rabbits, despite having owned them most of my life. Since Nighthawk’s allergic too, it’s probably a bad plan. So now I’ve got Disapproving Rabbits to let me live out my rabbithood vicariously instead.