by Kasie West
Oh, Bugs, you meat rabbit you, where did you come from? Why a rabbit? Why a meat rabbit of all rabbits? My family and I used to live in the country. I have a friend who raised and bred meat rabbits (yes, to eat). Well, we were gifted one of these baby rabbits and he became our pet. He was the cutest little thing (well, not little for long). He lived in a pen outside but the kids would bring him in often to bounce around the house and play.
Because he was handled so much, he was very friendly. He’d sniff at people’s feet and get up on his hind legs to check them out. He’d let the kids hold him and pet him. He eventually broke into the cage of one of the female rabbits we owned (not a meat rabbit) and let’s just say that magic happened because thirty days later (yes, gestation is short in rabbits) he was the father of five.
When writing PS, I couldn’t think of a more appropriate pet for this already quirky family. Bugs fit right in. The mascot, if you will, to the already crazy household. It was fun to see Lily come to terms with him (or at least tolerate him better) as she came to terms with the fact that being different was a good thing.