The Rabbit Attack

There I was minding my own business at my parents' house when out of nowhere my sister's 8-foot-tall rabbit hurdled toward me and ripped my hand off at the wrist.

Well, maybe that's not how it happened.

Over the years, my family has had dogs, cats, fish, turtles, rats, frogs, guinea pigs, rabbits, chickens, and ducks. I've been beaked by a chicken, bitten by dogs, clawed by cats, and had allergic reactions to rats (go figure!), but never in my life have I been so mistreated by any living creature than I was last night by my little sister's Champagne d'Argent rabbit, Antoinette.

Rabbits are supposedly cuddly little woodland creatures that avoid human contact because they are poor, defenseless animals. WRONG! I attempted to pick up this poor, defenseless animal when it began flailing its front paws in the air while digging its back feet into my flesh. My knee-jerk reaction was the drop the monster, and, luckily, for her sake, she landed on the couch. Needless to say, Antoinette and I will not be exchanging pleasantries any time soon. I spent the rest of the evening without feeling in two of my fingers and with excruciating pain from the impaled area on my wrist.


Everyone roots for Bugs Bunny, but I'm with Elmer Fudd. He's had it right all along.