Happy Feast of the Great Earth Goddess Ishtar to you! May your garden and your mind be fertile as, well, …
I used to tell my lop eared bunnies, Nijinsky and Moonlight, that once a year, people worship rabbits. This never impressed them.
They had jobs. They were the recycling service in my wedding florist shop during the ‘nineties on Maui. Totally spoiled, they feasted on slightly imperfect lilies, orchids, rose petals, babies breath, gladiolus and all manner of green leaves, but distained iris, anthurium and protea.
Like cats, rabbits prefer to hide their excrement, and will use a litter box without prompting. Like the fisherman’s cat, the florist’s rabbit eats the most succulent leftovers from the work table, but, unlike cat poop, bunny poop is the fertilizer of choice for growing darn near everything. So they fertilized the exotic tropical greens in my garden that fattened my bouquets and arrangements, and they also fed the papaya, mango and banana trees. I used to refer to those excellent papayas as…um, bunny doo melons. (Sorry.)
They also entertained me while I worked, playing with my bare feet. Even though I weighed twenty times either of them, my feet were only twice as long as their hind feet, and shaped exactly the same way, which led them to suspect I was part rabbit. Truly, I felt honored to be trusted by someone so low on the food chain.