I grew up next door to an American-Norwegian family. With a father who was used to farm living in Norway, and a mother who came from a rural place outside of our hometown...animals were no strangers to their household. There were always one or two dogs, about five cats (any kittens from their yearly litter that didn't get given away just stayed in residence), guinea pigs, chinchillas, roosters & hens early on, and for a short time—even a pony! It was like Dr. Doolittle's house - and so perfect for a little girl whose mom and dad forbade any pets in the house except parakeets and goldfish. I got to live vicariously through my friends' animals, and I loved it.
 
One summer the second eldest son in their family decided to raise rabbits and sell them at Easter to pet stores or anyone else who wanted a spring bunny. He built special pens for the rabbits to live in, in their side yard. His two little sisters were my best friends, and all three of us would visit the pregnant rabbits and feed them clover and other greens that we felt might be "good for the babies" since all they had to eat were rabbit pellets from a pet store. We waited and waited....eagerly anticipating the day there would be bunnies.
 
Spring came, the grass greened up, and spring-beauties and dandelions dotted everyone's lawns in the warm sunshine. One day I got the call that the bunnies had been born! I ran down my back yard and dashed next door to meet my friends by the pens. Tiny little bunnies with slits for eyes and their ears still plastered to their heads lay nursing from tired mammas. I wanted to pet them so badly, but they were still too young.

One morning from my upstairs window, I noticed a circular pen in my friends' yard made of chicken wire and wooden stakes to hold it up. My heart began to pound. This could only mean one thing. Sure enough, my friends knocked frantically at our front door later. "THE BUNNIES ARE OUT! We can play with them!"

So for one glorious afternoon (I'm pretty sure it was the day before Easter), we sat inside the pen watching about fifty bunnies hop around, munch clover and dandelions, and do that cute little frisky jump/twist in the air every so often. There were black ones, white ones, black and white ones, brown ones, spotted ones....and we picked them up one by one and stroked their silky bunny fur and gave them kisses on their little bunny noses. My friends' brother proudly announced that he'd found homes for all of them and was going to make a lot of money from his venture (he later grew up to be a thrifty businessman and entrepreneur). So we knew our time with the bunnies were fleeting. I savored every minute in that bunny pen and didn't want to go home. Not even when the sun was lowering in the West.
 
Those bunnies made Easter one of the Easteriest Easters I've ever experienced, and I've never forgotten the magic of those few hours.
 
I always wondered if Hans (their brother) ever raised bunnies for his own kids to enjoy. He lives out in the country these days, and raises pure-bred German Shepherds, selling them to clients all over the country. They would probably eat a bunny if they saw one, so maybe not.