I found myself in a discussion about art on the weekend. One of the women had bought an expensive Aboriginal painting on a whim and her husband was miffed about it. She sighed and said it was so beautiful, she just couldn’t resist.
I gave a heavy sigh of my own and said: “I want a bunny.”
My friend said: “Ooooh, a Rupert Bunny?” For a moment I thought she was talking about Peter Rabbit’s cousin, but fortunately it clicked that she meant an artist before I embarrassed myself socially.
“No, not him – though I’m sure that would be nice,” I replied. “I’m thinking a dwarf lop or something.”
She looked at me blankly for a moment, not sure why I was introducing rabbits into an art discussion. But I want a bunny like my friend wanted that expensive Aboriginal painting. I think it’s my mid-life crisis kicking in again. Except this time, rather than being miserable about my fat rolls, I’m mourning the death of my fertility.
I feel a bit like Mary in Downton Abbey when she got a cold shiver the exact moment Matthew was injured in the war. The bunny ache is my version of a cold shiver as my biological clock stops ticking. No more babies for me, must get something soft to cuddle …
A school mum friend is trying to convince me her guinea pigs would be just as good. Her kids are bored with them and she’s desperate to find them a new home. But I’m not getting the same cuddly vibes about guinea pigs, much as she tries to wear me down with her pleading.
Although I did come across this handsome fellow in my search for images for the blog … 
He’s quite something … a “merino” breed, apparently. Nah, a bunny it is. Though I’ve read they get lonely without a friend. Poor little pets. So that’s two bunnies I’ll be acquiring. Husband can’t wait. Yes he can. He’s more the Rupert type.
P.S To the other friend trying to off-load her giant bunnies onto me … Sorry, they won’t cut it either. I want something that I can nurture as it grows.
housegoeshome 
I go through this periodically with chickens. Not that they’re cuddly, but in my imagination having them would turn me into the nurturing earth mother I’ve so far failed to be. No more babies for me either, but feel I should aim for wizen provision of life lessons and organic food for the ones I have. Of course if I can’t find the time to source the chickens (the case so far), I probably won’t have time to look after them either. Chickens aren’t cutting it for you though eh?
I adore my chickens! But they don’t like being cuddled.
It’s a strange thing: I too ‘mourn’ the passing of my fertility and yet I do NOT want another child (barely coping with the 3 I have!). I think it’s just another sign of aging, along with the lines and stray gray hairs. I just want to BE ABLE to do it again, not to actually DO IT again. I’m not an animal person so I can’t channel my cluckiness into bunnies or chickens!! I just ignore it ..along with the lines and stray gray hairs…
The only good use for a rabbit is a slow-braised one with a bit of celeriac puree.
Awwwww Sam!
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