The bunny

My younger daughter tried before. Cinnamon and Pop came from PetSmart. The first few days they were cute and cuddly, but their droppings and the stench in the mudroom quickly became overpowering. The guinea pigs' cage, which eventually became a multilevel cage with ramps and mirrors, required a weekly cleaning, and the pigs themselves needed food, water, toenail clippings, and out-of-cage exercise time, which they rarely got. All of these tasks fell to me, or I should say that I let them fall to me, and I was not happy.

After a few months even my daughter admitted it was a failed experiment. Happily Cinnamon and Pop (now renamed Charlie and Lola) are now living a life of luxury with former colleague's daughter.

So when my husband agreed with Annie that a bunny was a good idea, I went ballistic, pointing out that all the work that would fall to me, that she would love it in the beginning but soon get bored, and so on.

Lou argued that as her stepfather, the bunny would be something that they have together. They would build a cage and feed it from the garden. They would shop together for bunny supplies. The bunny would be happy. Finally I let go.

And he was right. So right that we now have two bunnies, Trent and Peanut. Please let them both be female.