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Rabbit tricks

By Amanda Woytus

May 7, 2009 | 12:00 a.m. CST

During my childhood, there was a not-so-funny television show named America’s Funniest People, in which Full House star Dave Coulier voiced a character called the Jackalope. A rabbit with antlers fastened to its head, the Jackalope was notorious for playing mean tricks on people, such as attacking workers from fictional Big Brute Construction Co. with a jackhammer when they attempted to cut down a tree that housed a nest of bird eggs. The furry vigilante would then wrap the segment up with his favorite catchphrase, “Fast as fast can be, you’ll never catch me.” The Jackalope was the most amusing thing I had seen at age 6, but it instantly made me want a mischievous rabbit with antlers attached to its head. Thus began my love of all things rabbit related. When I asked my parents for one, I was told that my father was deathly allergic to animals with fur and would end up in the emergency room, or worse, if I ever brought a rabbit home.

Thirteen years later, when I was in college and living on my own, I got my wish. In June 2008, my friend Andrew and I volunteered to adopt a friend’s rabbit, Maxine, who needed a new home. Even though Maxine was known to keep late, noisy hours by banging toys around in her cage, I fell in love with her soft white fur and big blue eyes. As an added bonus, she was already potty trained. I was also comforted by the fact that she would be staying with Andrew, as I couldn’t have pets in my apartment. Once Andrew’s room was sufficiently rabbit-proofed, Maxine moved in and set up her evil lair under his bed. Although Maxine was sans antlers, I would soon learn she came with her share of tricks.

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The first time Maxine tried to suffocate Andrew in his sleep, he woke up struggling to breathe but gently moved her. After a couple of months of defending himself against the four-legged assassin, Andrew eventually learned to sleep on his stomach, his face shielded with his arm to protect him from Maxine. We thought it was an easy fix but then the biting began. As soon as someone would walk into the room, Maxine would charge out from under the bed and bite their feet. Andrew was forced to wrap himself in blankets. He formed a complete cocoon with his blankets in order to protect his appendages from being nibbled while he slept. I later found out that Andrew’s younger brother had secretly fed Maxine, who is supposed to be a strict herbivore, bacon while she was living with them, which probably explained her partiality to meaty flesh.

While we were still tackling the biting issue, winter break rolled around, and to Andrew’s relief, Maxine and I spent the holidays with my parents. As I suspected, my father’s allergies were all lies, as he petted her and did not drop dead. Before going to bed one night, Maxine hopped over to me and nudged her head against my hand. Amazed, I began to pet her, something she rarely let me do. While imagining that she had snapped out of whatever teenage phase she was going through, I noticed something hanging out of her mouth –– a thick, yellow-colored piece of paper. Horrified, I looked across the room to find multiple strips of wallpaper ripped clean off of my walls. I tried to grab her, but she sprang off of my bed while Dave Coulier’s voice teased, “Fast as fast can be, you’ll never catch me!” in my head. I chased her into a corner where I discovered another wreckage site. She had chewed a good chunk of the brand-new carpet my parents had just installed into shreds. Like a proud artist, she showed me her work with great joy. The next day, I spent a few hours trying to repair the mess she had made. I counted down the days until she returned to Andrew’s house, while she sat in her cage and scowled at me. My father still doesn’t know about the damaged carpet. A strategically placed box covers up the hole. I am sure if he found out, his “allergies” would return.

Andrew and I soon discovered that giving Maxine pages out of magazines, which are not toxic, was an easy fix to her chewing problems. Eerily enough, she managed to chew around the model’s faces and the underside of Andrew’s bed turned into some kind of shrine to waifs a serial killer might keep. Frightened, we threw away her assemblage and gave her new chew toys and hay to munch on instead. She didn’t care for them as much and began a new collection­­ — this time of sales receipts. As revenge, she has also since mangled an anthology of American literature (She paid special attention to Nathaniel Hawthorne.), a Jesus Christ Superstar record sleeve and a Dan Brown book.

For her ability to recognize mediocre entertainment, as well as her fiery personality, I will fight the urge to cage Maxine, my perfect, though quirky, pet. For however much money she has cost me in damages, her companionship is worth more. True, when it comes time to find another companion, I will probably spring for something less destructive, like a Tasmanian Devil, in keeping with childhood fantasies. Until that day comes, I’ll have to take up my grievances with Dave Coulier.

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