It was a marvellous day, at least for Bunny, when he arrived on the doorstep of my wee Nursery. Full of mischief and mis-adventure this 'endearing' Bunny was destined to keep my ever patient self reaching for the first aid kit, and at the end of a tiring day, the medicinal whisky.
Why, after only a day in the Nursery, Bunny and his 'endearing' ways had left me with somewhat shattered nerves performing random acts of strangeness like putting my glasses in the bread bin and my dressing gown atop the topiary in the garden. I do believe at one point I may have been found trembling in the airing cupboard refusing to come out.
Bunny, through gift or opportunity, found himself the proud owner of a motley crew of toys known as his Meadow Friends. He has bestowed these pals with bountiful affection, although it must be noted it is sometimes to the detriment of those receiving this love. For you see, his Meadow Friends often found it difficult to smile through the discomfort that accompanies his many creative adventures. Along with plenty of laughter, mischief and fun, there was also folly and fright and the odd physical challenge. Like the time Giraffe found his neck to be tied in a knot, or Chicken being lobbed over a net as a rather unsuitable substitute for a badminton shuttlecock.
Still life was never uneventful. Needless to say, anything of even the remotest value sentimentally or otherwise, was kept under lock and key or on a shelf high above prying paws. (Finding the Royal Albert tea set chipped and rather the worse for wear in Mr Livingstone’s wheelbarrow truly was the last straw).
Bunny was found to be (according to himself) particularly talented in any artistic endeavours he engaged in. He developed early on a penchant for permanent markers and pristine white surfaces...namely my Sunday Best frock, my antique Irish linen tablecloth with matching napkins, and a rather expensive Chaise Longue upholstered in the (previously) most divine brocade. Poor Bunny truly believed he was enhancing rather than ruining the abovementioned pieces. It was around the time of these artistic outpourings that I considered an extended stay at a strict boarding school in Scotland for our dear, dear Bunny.
The thought of boarding school - although not an idea that sits well with me after all my youthful years of eating cold grey porridge and lying under moth eaten scratchy blankets - did often cross my mind when it came to Bunny. As a woman of culture and class it irked me an inordinate amount just how naturally a lack of social refinement came to Bunny.
Whether it be his natural ability to “pop off” at the most inopportune times, namely on the bus in the morning on the way to Edward Smythe-Edwards - Purveyor of Fine Foods, or his delight in blowing “raspberries” whilst still masticating his morning porridge, Bunny seemed to find endless delight in behaviours that polite society generally deemed not only unacceptable, but truly offensive. This inability to find the fun in rude noises only seemed to confuse Bunny…
For all his delight in mis-adventure and predilection to cause mayhem, chaos and occasional pain, Bunny is, in fact, much misunderstood. He is a Bunny of beautiful imaginings and wide eyed wonder. He is in love with his world and all who inhabit it. He is wickedly clever, magnificently funny, amazingly talented and generously affectionate. Just ask him.
With much wincing love