Hop, Rest, Repeat
The simple life of a petting cafe rabbit
I was hopping across the floor, proudly flicking my fluffy white tail in pursuit of a black and white cutie ahead of me. I liked the ruff of fur under her chin and the way she batted her dark lashes. Was there a hint of ‘come hither’ to her mild expression? Maybe, if I could get her alone.
Legs walking past distracted me from my love mission. They never harm us, but we tend to scatter and regroup when they’re near.
The legs care for us: Putting down fresh hay and changing water bottles, penning us nightly and cleaning dirt from our hutches.
Some rabbits had already begun nibbling the dull grain the legs put in bowls, but I knew better. I’d learned to wait for the legs with arms that petted us to appear, knowing they brought tasty treats.
I settled on my haunches, licking my paws, and stroking them down my ears so I looked my best.
There was that sound again, notes in a pattern. It played every day before the legs invited the arms into our space. Sometimes the legs made noises that harmonised with the sound. I sat still, whiskers twitching, wiggling my nose. By keeping separate from the other rabbits, I’m often first to be scooped into arms for a cuddle and nibbles.
The arms also have legs, but when they join us, they are laid down on the floor. The legs are covered with blankets we can climb over to be held and petted. I’ve learned to like their touching and stroking, most arms are gentle, handling us with care.
I don’t bite or scratch. Any rabbit who does that won’t stay long; we fare better if we act docile.
A leg came alongside me, covered with denim and a worn-out boot. Its owner hunkered down, and lifted my body into an embrace.
“Hey fella! Aren’t you’re handsome?”
The arms moved, rubbing me under the chin, then offering a tasty pellet. “I’ll bet you’re a hit with the ladies.”
I remained statue still, moving only my eyes and whiskers, fully alert for danger, but the arms continued to stroke me from nose to tail, and gradually I relaxed.
“Hold still Lennie, I’ll take a picture of you holding the rabbit,” said a new voice.
Something bright made me blink and startle. Arms did that sometimes: They brought us close, a tiny light flashed, but nothing bad happened. I wasn’t worried.
“Aww, that’s so cute. I’ve ordered us green tea. Come over when you’re ready, Lennie. The sign states you’re not allowed food or drink in there.”
The arms remained, surrounding me, warm and cosy, stroking my pelt.
“You’re safe here, buddy,” they said. “No predators.”
I wiggled my nose, then accepted another pellet to chomp.
“I had a rabbit like you when I was a kid, name of Bugsy. Fed him lettuce from Mom’s garden. An Easter present. I told Mom:
“Forget foil-wrapped eggs made of chocolate, I want a pet.”
The arms held me tighter, I stayed put, comforted by their touch.
“Bugsy was my best friend,” their voice was softer, breath brushing past my long, furry ears.
Author’s Notes:
Written for the Kraken Lore’s Monday Mash Up #70 & Microcosm’s prompt ‘touch’ — Originally published on Medium
© Jacinta Palmer 2025, written by a human and not AI