The other day I went to my neighborhood park to enjoy two of my favorite activities: reading in the sun and people watching. As I got settled on my blanket, there was one lady who immediately caught my eye. She was meandering down the middle of the small park and looked like she had just woken up (it was early afternoon). Her hair was doing a great imitation of a bird's nest and she was wearing a very thin t-shirt without a bra. To each his own fashion sense, but this was a kid-friendly park and the bright sunlight wasn't doing her natural form any favors. And then I noticed she was holding a leash and walking a pet. And the pet happened to be a giant rabbit. This hungover hippie was walking a huge gray bunny. Of course you expect to see dogs around. And I have a soft spot in my heart for the crazy old lady who pushes her cat around in a wire basket on wheels. But a bunny?
To be precise, I can't even say that she was "walking" it. I never really saw it move more than a few tiny hop-waddles. To transport the bunny great distances, the lady would pick it up and carry it like baby. The furry beast starfished in her arms, feet sticking up in the air as its ears flopped lazily downward and its mounds of gray fur rolled down her arms. As you can imagine, she was quite the head turner and soon was surrounded by kids. I wanted to tell her to put on a sweatshirt, but she was proudly petting and bragging about the bunny (coming in at a whopping 13 pounds) with boobs flying free, innocent eyes be damned. She stopped by a gay couple, letting their Rhodesian Ridgeback puppy wrestle and grossly molest the poor rabbit while camera phones clicked left and right, instantly commemorating the moment on Facebook. She eventually wandered out of the park, fleecy baby cradled in her arms, and I was left with a single thought: that's one big bunny.
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